Exposed To The Light
by digdigil
Summary: I decided to rewrite this story and begin it with a prologue that introduces Legolas, Aragorn, Halbarad and another Dúnedain Ranger. Since the rest of the story involves the search and rescue of these missing characters by the sons of Elrond and some OC
1. Chapter 1

EXPOSED TO THE LIGHT

PROLOGUE

ANGMAR: YEAR 2951, THIRD AGE

Legolas glanced at Aragorn, who sat beside him at the Rangers' campfire, about fifty miles northeast of the Hoarwell River. They were not far from the Witch-king's old kingdom that had been deserted since 1975 when Elrond and Círdan had defeated the evil lord in battle. For many days they had been traveling with a dozen of the Dúnedain Rangers, scouring the area for unusually large numbers of Orcs that had reportedly been seen in the area by Mirkwood scouts. They had chosen to camp in a shallow ravine through which ran a small, muddy creek. They set up the fire upon its banks.

"Where are we, Aragorn?" asked the Elf as quietly as he could manage so that he would not be overheard by the other Rangers and subsequently embarrass himself and Aragorn by admitting their lack of awareness of their whereabouts.

"Do you not know, Legolas?" Aragorn's raspy voice hissed the question. "Were you not tracking our journey as we went along? I am not yet accomplished enough to have been able to determine our location, but you should be."

"Well, I'm not!" Legolas retorted to the twenty-year-old Dúnadan, leaning close to his ear. "I was too occupied using my eyes to hunt in the treetops for Orcs. Thus I was not paying any attention to our progress over ground. That was supposed to be your job!" His bright eyes flashed, reflecting a fiery orange glow from the blazing campfire.

"I just told you!" Aragorn cried out loud. "I have not yet learned—" He broke off when he realized all the other Rangers had stopped what they were doing and began to stare at the two of them. His face flushed hotly and he cast an angry glance at the Elf, who coldly ignored him.

"Not yet learned what, young one?" asked Halbarad, the Ranger's leader, rising to his feet and walking to Aragorn's side. He was a tall, stern-faced Man with perpetual stubble of wiry dark hair upon his face.

"How to track properly," replied Aragorn, looking sheepish.

"Do you wish to learn how to track well?" asked Halbarad, looking at Aragorn with beneficent interest.

"Yes, I would. Truly," Aragorn replied, trying to muster a serious expression despite the urge to squirm and burst into laughter because the Elf beside him was surreptitiously dropping bits of broken twigs down the collar of his tunic.

"That is commendable, Estel," said Halbarad. "How much do you know already?" He turned away in order to walk several yards behind them to his horse and retrieve something from its saddlebag.

Aragorn used the opportunity when Halbarad was not looking to give Legolas a swift but hard jab with his elbow, intended for the ribs. The Elf sensed it and dodged neatly to the side, shifting himself just out of range of Aragorn's limbs. The elbow caught a fold of his jerkin but made no contact with his person. He smiled sweetly at Aragorn who gave him a quick, furious look. When Halbarad turned back to them, the Elf graced him with the same sweet smile.

"Ah," said Aragorn, looking as if he was thinking hard. "I know that moss grows on the north side of trees, that it is easier to track footprints in mud than on dry ground, and that it is almost impossible to track someone through water."

Halbarad gave him a look of surprise tinged with slight disgust. "You are not really making an effort, are you?" he asked. "Those are all defensive strategies and basic ones at that. Is that the extent of your knowledge?"

Aragorn nodded and tried not to break into laughter. He cast a sideways glance at Legolas who was trying with all his self-control to suppress a gale of laughter.

"How old are you, Aragorn?" asked Halbarad.

"Twenty," said the young man.

"Ah, then you are but a lad," said the Ranger. "But that does not explain the behaviour of your companion, who looks to be several centuries past his majority."

The glow from the campfire hid the fact that Legolas' cheeks had turned pink at the rebuke from Halbarad. He was prevented from making a retort by the approach of Vëandur, one of the scouts who had been sent ahead to search the area north of them.

"Halbarad!" the scout called to the head Ranger. There was an urgent note to his voice. He began to speak to Halbarad, their heads pressed together, talking in hushed voices.

Presently Halbarad returned to Legolas, Aragorn and the other Rangers, who all remained seated and were staring up at them.

"Vëandur tells me that he has seen another campfire about a league north of here," said Halbarad.

"Other Rangers do you think?" asked one Man.

"I doubt it very much," said Halbarad. "Who would it be? We are the only group, to my knowledge, that has come this far to look for Orcs. It could be an Orc encampment, and I do not wish to find out in the middle of the night that it is, indeed, Orcs. I think some of us should go to investigate right away. I will need you, Legolas," he gestured toward the Elf. "Your night vision and your prowess with bow and arrow will be of value if these people indeed turn out to be the enemy. And you will show us the way, Vëandur."

"Can I come too?" asked Aragorn.

Halbarad paused for a moment and studied the young man carefully. "Yes, very well," he said finally. "It will be a good opportunity for you to learn better tracking skills." He finished buckling his sword-belt and whistled for his horse. The others joined him, retrieving their horses that were nervous and unsettled about being saddled so late at night, and mounting the skittish steeds. Halbarad explained to the remaining Rangers where the small party was going, and soon they were off, flying through the darkness upon the swift and sure-footed animals.

It did not take the small party long to reach the site of the strange campfire that Vëandur had seen. They dismounted downwind and left the horses well-hidden in a stand of spruce trees. Legolas, with his ability to see in the dark, made sure the mounts were tied securely and would not wander away while their masters crept toward the alien campsite.

"Use your nose," Halbarad whispered to Aragorn. "What scents to you detect?"

Aragorn sniffed, his nose pointed upwards. "I smell the fire, and it overwhelms some of the other odors—but I sense an animal smell too. Although it is so faint I cannot discern whether it is man or beast."

"Or Orc?" asked Halbarad.

"No, it is not an Orc," said Vëandur, interrupting the lesson. "It is a dog or dogs. And there is another scent I cannot quite determine—it is vaguely human, but strangely so."

"Let us move closer so that we will have a better chance to see them. Legolas, can you see anything?" Halbarad and the others crept toward the campsite on their stomachs along the ground until they could see figures seated in a circle with a large fire in the center.

"Yes," the Elf whispered when they were within view. "There are ten men—they look like men, though they are all hooded and cloaked—but they have the shapes of Men. They are feeding a dog—it looks as if they are feeding it scraps of meat—each of them is feeding it—within their circle."

"Ah. I thought I picked up the scent of dog," said Vëandur. "And if these beings are Men and not Orcs, and have with them a dog, then they are likely not our enemy. Should we backtrack, retrieve the horses, and go to rejoin our company?"

"Wait—oh, Gods!" cried Legolas, raising a pale hand to cover his mouth.

"What is it?" Halbarad asked him sharply.

"They have killed the dog," hissed Legolas, his bared teeth showing white in the darkness, just a pale glow from the distant fire lighting his face. "They have slit its throat. Why would they kill a pet?" He turned back to peer again at the strange group of beings and soon uttered a gasp of horror.

"What now, Legolas?" cried Halbarad.

"They have cut him open," said Legolas. "And now they are removing something from his body. I cannot see what it is exactly, but it looks like a large chunk of meat—and it glistens in the firelight." He turned to Halbarad, his breath a white wisp of steam, the scent of it acrid with fear. "Ai, Elbereth," he cried softly. "They have cut it into ten pieces and they now eat it—raw and fresh-killed. They have thrown the carcass on the fire."

When he said this, the fire sparked suddenly larger and the four comrades were lit, exposed in the sudden brightness of the flare as they lay upon the hilltop overlooking the strange campsite.

"What should we do?" asked Vëandur. "They have not done anything to hurt us. It is but an animal they have killed. Perhaps they were starving."

"No. Why would starving people feed a dog and then kill it?" asked Halbarad, shaking his head. "Food is plentiful hereabouts. This does not make sense. I do not like the feeling I have, but it is true these people have done nothing to harm us."

"I think we should leave them alone and go back," said Vëandur.

"I would like to go down there and talk to them," said Aragorn, who until this time had remained silent.

"No, Estel! Why would you say such a thing?" asked Halbarad, a note of shock in his voice.

"There was something reminiscent of a ritualistic sacrifice in their actions that intrigues me," said the young Man. "I have read about such things in Master Elrond's library in Imladris. I would like to find out who they are and why they did such a thing. I am very much interested in unusual human behavior."

"I do not think that is a wise idea," said Halbarad. "I, for one, do not wish to meet them. They may not be human, for all we know. Come, let us go back."

Aragorn sighed. He was disappointed, and Legolas, who was already standing, reached down and grasped Aragorn's arm, pulling him to his feet.

"I can stand by myself," said the young Man, wresting his arm from Legolas' grip.

The Elf and Rangers turned away and began to walk back to the grove of trees where they had left their horses. The sudden sound of a cracking twig caused all four to turn around, and they found themselves set upon by men bearing clubs. Aragorn was first to fall, having sustained a blow to the side of his head.

"Aragorn!" shrieked Legolas, and immediately reached for his bow, but he was grabbed from behind by two men and a third yanked the bow from his hands.

After a short struggle, Halbarad and Vëandur had slain their attackers with knives, but could only watch in horror as both Aragorn and Legolas were dragged away toward the campfire. The ten people who had been sitting around it were now standing. Many more figures materialized out of the shadows surrounding it and began running toward the Rangers who stood open-mouthed, gaping in terror.

"Come on!" cried Halbarad, gathering his senses, and he and Vëandur turned and ran for their lives.

7


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER ONE

THE MISSION

The three blond Elves emerged from the forest into Imladris in single file, walking their horses through the tall evergreens surrounding the arched and highly decorative entrance gates that led into Imladris from the main road. They were being followed by three of the marchwardens from Rivendell's borders who stayed a respectable distance behind the three strange flaxen-haired Elves. The guards had no reason to be overly cautious or suspicious of these Elves. It was clear that they were from Mirkwood and the Imladrians could not help but stare at them with interest as they walked toward Master Elrond's stables.

The three Elves paused at a junction of three pathways to look expectantly at the guards who immediately approached them. The newcomers were Silvan, two of whom were taller than the third, although all three were shorter in stature and lighter in build than the Noldorin and Sindarin Elves of Imladris. The two taller had hair of tawny blonde, but the third one, who was very short and slim, had a head of an unusual shade of reddish-gold hair that shone like burnished bronze in the bright midday sunlight.

"Hail, young Masters." Glorfindel, who was Elrond's seneschal, cried out to Elladan and Elrohir as he trotted alongside the identical twins' practice field upon his fine white stallion. "Would you cut short your swordplay and join your father in the Hall of Fire?"

"Are you asking us to come right at this moment?" asked Elladan. He stopped sparring with his brother, and wiped the perspiration from his well-muscled chest with a strip of cloth that appeared to be his shirt.

"Yes, and hurry, please," replied Glorfindel. "Apparently your father has an important piece of news that he wishes to share with you without delay," Glorfindel announced. "Shall I go back to him and tell him you will be joining him as soon as you have cleaned up?"

"Of course, Glorfindel," said Elladan, glancing at his twin with a worried look. It was unusual for Elrond to call them away from their activities in the middle of the day unless the matter was urgent.

Some minutes later, Elladan and Elrohir entered the Hall of Fire clean, and dressed in typical warrior under-clothing—unadorned tunic over tight-fitting, dark leggings. They saw that the great room was occupied by a number of Rangers of Imladris whom they knew very well, plus three blond Elves whom they did not know at all. These strange Elves were small of stature and slender, and were dressed in the soft green and brown suedes of the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood.

"Ah. Please enter, my sons," Elrond looked up and welcomed them. They noticed that a grave look shaded his noble face, giving it a grayish hue. He usually looked ageless, but at this moment he appeared ancient. "I have asked you to join me here along with some of your kindred rangers to address an issue that seems to be a matter of urgency for us. Word has been brought here by these messengers from Mirkwood that there are bands of Orcs that have been seen recently in the north, and that they are becoming more numerous in the far reaches of Arnor. I wish to dispatch a large group of Rangers—all of you present in this room—to go there post-haste and disperse these Orcs before they can form an army large enough to cause us any trouble. There will be six of you from Imladris as well as Elladan and Elrohir. I cannot spare any more warriors at this time—I need senior Rangers such as Glorfindel to train new soldiers. I am also asking the three messengers from Mirkwood if they will accompany you."

The three flaxen-haired Elves bowed slightly toward Elrond's sons and the rest of the group. The twins noticed that their faces were pale, and bore expressions of deep melancholy.

"There is more," said Elrond, his voice growing deeper. "Thranduil has written that Prince Legolas, my adopted son Aragorn and other Dúnedain Rangers have been missing for six months. It is known that they had planned to travel into Arnor. It is of the utmost urgency that we discover their whereabouts and to give them aid if necessary. Now if you would, please greet Bethos, Penlod and Ilfrith, who are all worthy bowmen and skilled in knifework, and who will accompany the eight of you. I have seen evidence of the abilities of the Elves of Mirkwood and know that they will be worthy companions."

Despite Elrond's words Elladan thought that these small, pretty Elves looked nothing like warriors. He thought they looked nervous, although they seemed to be trying to hide it as they gave quick, formal nods to the group. Elrond continued. "I will have word sent back to Thranduil that the three of you will be joining the Elves that will be traveling into Arnor, so that he will not wonder what has become of you."

"Thank you, My Lord," spoke the tallest of the group of three Elves. His voice was soft and musical and everyone's attention was drawn immediately to him because of that and his delicate beauty. But Elladan's eyes were drawn to the smallest of the Elves from Mirkwood, whose hair was the colour of bronze and very long, falling to his backside in a thick braid worn down the middle of his back. Every strand of his hair was pulled tightly off of his face into that one braid, but Elladan could see that despite the severity of the style, this Elf's face was one of a soft beauty that made him look very young, too young perhaps for this journey. He found concern for this strange Elf creeping into his heart, even though he did not know the creature, and had no doubt of the Mirkwood Elf's prowess with bow and arrow and the long knives for which the Silvans were also famous. He sighed as he reluctantly pulled his gaze away from this unusual Elf in order to focus on his father's next words.

"You shall leave tomorrow as soon as the sun rises. Tonight we shall have a feast for all of you to be held here in the Hall of Fire around the great table, and from there you will retire to the barracks to rest before it is time to leave. He turned to his sons. "Elladan and Elrohir, would you please show our guests to the barracks where they can freshen themselves and put down their packs? Then please find out if any of them require anything further and arrange to have it taken to them. I want all of you to be comfortable and properly equipped for your journey. I am sorry that it has to be made in such haste, but I fear it is imperative that you leave in a timely manner." He turned to the three visitors. "Please do not hesitate to ask for anything that you may need. That is all. You may now follow my sons, who will direct you to your quarters."

Elladan and Elrohir led the contingent of Elves to their quarters in the main barracks and showed the three visitors where they could sleep and also where the pools were for bathing. Elladan noticed that the smallest Elf, Ilfrith, was sitting upon his pallet and had retrieved a small piece of parchment and a quill from his backpack. He took out a tiny vial of ink and began dipping the quill into it.

"What are you doing?" asked Elladan, his curiosity piqued by this strange Elf.

A flush rose on Ilfrith's face. "I am keeping a journal," he replied, his lashes fluttering as he gazed up at Elladan. His voice was small and whispery-soft, much like the rest of him.

One of the Imladris Elves burst into hearty laughter. "A journal!" he guffawed. "Is that all the little Mirkwood folk are good for? To write down what they see? Can they not wield a sword as well as they can wield a pen?" A few other large Noldorin Elves joined in the fun-making.

Elladan found himself feeling suddenly protective of the little Silvan, and stepped forward. "Now look here, Gilfanon –" he started to say, but he was cut off by the tallest of the Silvans, the one they called Penlod, who leapt suddenly between Gilfanon and Ilfrith, his blue eyes seeming to send darts through the back of Gilfanon, who was a full head taller than Penlod.

"Let us make sure of one thing from the start," hissed the Silvan. "We would appreciate if you would not speak ill or make jest of any of the three of us, and especially not of my brother."

Gilfanon, who had not meant any real harm, put up his hand in a gesture of apology. "I am sorry," he said. "I do not wish there to be any ill will between us, for our travels will be long and we should all work together and bond as if we are brothers."

"Well said, Gilfanon," said Elladan, relieved that the large warrior had backed down so eloquently. He agreed with his father's choice in picking the strongest and best possible Elf-warriors to accompany them on this mission, but he did not want their journey to be hampered by fighting among these chosen Elves.

Later that night, when they were all back in the barracks after a hearty dinner during which the food and the songs were plentiful, Ilfrith fell onto his pallet still fully dressed in his daytime clothes, deep exhaustion setting in upon him. He noticed through half-closed eyes that some of the other Elves had undressed completely and were walking around fully naked, although Penlod and Bethos had kept their clothes on as he had. He noticed that Elladan and Elrohir were not there. He averted his face from three nude Elves who were standing talking together at the foot of his pallet, closed his eyes and went right to sleep.

When he awoke at dawn, Ilfrith took his journal from under his pillow and read what he had written the night before.

ILFRITH'S JOURNAL – ENTRY #1

Our journey from Mirkwood Castle has been uneventful even though these are precarious times and we bore a sadly urgent missive from our king, Thranduil, for Lord Elrond of Rivendell. We crossed through the Misty Mountains by way of the High Pass and climbed safely down into the fair valley in the early morning, after having journeyed all night long. Single file, we entered the realm of Imladris leading our horses, the sunrise behind us, and the skies of the West still dark but peaceful-looking. How apocryphal this is when I think of the suffering that may have been endured by our Prince Legolas and his friend Aragorn of the Dúnedain who is also Lord Elrond's adopted son. They went into the north six months ago and have not returned.

As we approached the Last Homely House, my brother Penlod, our friend Bethos and I, passed many Elves of this realm who gave us curious stares. We stared right back at them as we continued on our path. They may try to challenge us but we will show them we are worthy warriors even though we may lack their stature. They are big Elves, these folk of Rivendell, with powerful bodies and fierce eyes. I noticed the musical sound of falling water and the sweet scent of roses and other flowers as we led our horses toward what we thought appeared to be the path to the stables. Three tall, dark-haired Elves came to meet us when we hesitated at a fork in the path. We were not sure where the stables were.

"Mae Govannen, Tawarwaith o Lasgalen," spoke one of these wardens for that is what I assumed them to be. I assumed also that they knew us to be from Mirkwood, once called the Greenwood, because of the blond color of our hair. We replied in turn and they kindly led us to the stables, where we left our mounts in capable hands. We explained that we were carrying an important message for Lord Elrond and were ushered courteously into the large dwelling where the lord and his family reside.

"Welcome, Thranduil's folk," the Lord of Imladris said to us kindly as we introduced ourselves and he bade us sit down upon comfortable chairs in front of a glowing fire that hissed and sparked in a large brazier in the centre of the room. "I am told that you bring news to me of some importance," he said.

My brother Penlod then rose and I could see that he was nervous. His hand shook slightly when he handed Lord Elrond the letter from our king. Penlod said nothing at first, but as Lord Elrond read it, I perused his face. I could see that he was very tall and ageless-looking, though I know that he has lived for many centuries. His hair was raven-dark and luxurious and very elaborately braided and arranged. A silver circlet was bound around his brow and his robes were silver and trimmed in dark blue. His eyes, when he looked at us, were clear grey and piercing. He was very handsome but his expression was one of great alarm as to be expected at the news he had just read.

Elrond's sons are identical twins. One of them, Elladan, I think, stares at me a lot. I wonder if he suspects my secret? I fervently hope that is not the case, for I do not wish for Thranduil to find out that I am here, and if my secret were to be discovered then I would be sent back to Mirkwood immediately, and that must not happen. Penlod and Bethos are my staunch friends and allies, who would do everything in their power to try to keep both my secret and myself safe from discovery. It is imperative that I not be found out until we are safely many miles away from here, when it will be too late for Thranduil to find me.

7


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER TWO

THE JOURNEY

Soon the group of Elven-rangers was packed up and on their way to the Northern realm. They had planned to follow the Misty Mountain range as it veered northward and then to the west through that part of Eriador. They intended to cross the Hoarwell River before making their way to the Ettenmoors and then into the old realm of Angmar that had been deserted by the Witch-king almost a thousand years before. It was known that Orcs still frequented the area and although Elladan and Elrohir had voiced their opinions that Aragorn and Legolas would have had no reason to venture that far north, some of the other rangers, including Gilfanon, put forth the idea that if their friends had been captured, the Orcs could have dragged them back to the Witch-king's old dungeons and were perhaps subjecting them to torture there, or at least keeping them captive.

This suggestion angered Elladan and Elrohir, and after exchanging a few sharp words with Gilfanon and Peleg, they stormed off, feeling more and more anxious to resume their journey to find Aragorn and Legolas as soon as possible. The way was safe for many leagues, and they had several uneventful days of traveling in which they could get to know each other better.

The Silvans, while friendly, tried to stay out of the way of the Imladrians, and let them play their games to while away the rest periods, preferring to sit back and watch them, rather than participating in the play themselves. Elladan and Elrohir were especially good at swordplay and would practice together at least once a day. Ilfrith enjoyed watching them. Their two identical muscular bodies were tanned and glistened with sweat in the strong sunlight as they sparred with each other, anticipating and blocking each other's moves. Occasionally, one of them would practice with another Elf for the challenge of using different skills that a fresh partner provided.

Once, Elladan had asked Ilfrith to spar with him. Penlod had tried to protest but Ilfrith had stopped him. "No, Penlod," he said. "Let me try. Though my weapon of choice is not sword but knife."

"I have no knife," said Elladan, his eyes glinting with the fire of anticipation, "but I can lend you a sword."

"Very well," said Ilfrith bravely, shushing Penlod's protests once again. He stared up at the large, dark-haired Elf who stood two heads above him. Elrohir had given Ilfrith a small but sharp, lightweight sword that Ilfrith found he could wield comfortably after a few practice swings.

They started to fight. Ilfrith attacked first, and Elladan managed to jump free of the blade easily, the muscles on his bare chest and arms rippling as he flexed them and circled Ilfrith. "This is hot work," he said. "You may want to remove your tunic and shirt as well, Ilfrith."

"No, I do not intend to work up a sweat as you have done," said Ilfrith evenly and made to stab Elladan in the ribs as these words were spoken, attempting to catch him by surprise while he was speaking. The dark-haired Elf deftly avoided the second attack. Next, he moved so quickly that Ilfrith did not see his intention until too late, and after leaping behind the slight Mirkwood Elf, Elladan wrapped one solid arm around Ilfrith's neck and quickly divested the Silvan of his sword by lifting the Silvan's slender sword-arm and shaking it until the blade dropped out of Ilfrith's hand and fell to the rocky ground below with a silvery clang.

"You certainly won't work up a sweat this way," said Elladan quietly into the delicate pink shell of Ilfrith's ear. The feel of Elladan's body pressed against his back and the sensation of the tall Elf's breath upon Ilfrith's ear caused a chill to run through his slight form. He could feel Elladan's heavy breathing and noticed the son of Elrond's not unpleasant odour of musk. After perceiving that Elladan had been holding him for a little longer than was necessary, and that all of the other Elves' eyes were upon them, Ilfrith put his small, slender hands upon Elladan's muscular arm and pressing down on it, twisted his way out of the Imladrian's grasp by ducking his head down and squirming free. The two Elves managed a swift but deep look into each other's eyes before they each turned and went their separate ways. Ilfrith noticed a look of astonishment in the dark recesses of Elladan's blue-grey stare and Elladan saw confused sadness in Ilfrith's. Shaken, neither Elf spoke another word to anyone for the rest of the night.

After breakfast the next morning, Elladan announced to all of the rangers that they were to close up camp, make tack and depart before the noon sun rose in the sky. "Be sure to relieve yourselves before departure," he shouted. "For we will not be stopping again until nightfall, not for any reason whatsoever."

His speech made, he chuckled and jumped down from the tree stump that he was using as a platform and started to make for a group of densely-planted bushes that stood on the outskirts of the woods. As he passed Ilfrith he noticed that the slight Elf was slowly packing his eating utensils while all the other rangers were heading to the bushes and some toward the woods in order to perform their toileting needs. "Ah, Ilfrith!" he cried, putting out his hand to grasp the small Elf by the upper arm and hoisting him lightly to his feet. "Why are you not going to relieve yourself? Come on! I will not let you delay us. And you'll be needing to do it before the sun sets!"

"I – I am not feeling any urge to go," stammered Ilfrith, the pitch of his voice rising and falling as he tried to adjust it to a lower level.

"Well, force yourself! As I said, we will not be stopping for any reason before the sun falls in the West and the sky turns red."

"How can you be so sure that the sky will be red tonight?" asked Ilfrith, attempting to change the subject.

Elladan allowed himself a self-indulgent smile. "When you get to be as old as me and as practiced at living in the outdoors as I am, little one, then you should also be able to determine what will be the colour of the sky at twilight and at the dawn light. Ah, let us stop here," he ordered as they reached a row of thick shrubbery. He began to unlace his leggings and when they were undone, he dropped them to his knees. He then grasped hold of himself and began to urinate a glowing yellow stream into the bushes as Ilfrith blushed profusely, trying to avert his gaze from that which Elladan clutched strongly in his large hand.

"Ahhhh ---" sighed the son of Elrond with relief. Then he noticed that Ilfrith had not made any motion to untie his own breeches and relieve himself. "Ilfrith! For the Valar's sake, please relieve yourself now!"

"What is amiss?" a new voice was heard as Elrohir strolled up to them. He stood on the other side of Ilfrith and began to unlace his own pants. This was too much for the small Mirkwood Elf, to be surrounded by both Elladan and Elrohir in this way, and he quickly took a few steps backwards.

"Uh – uh – excuse me," he stuttered, his face flushing a deep shade of crimson. "I have to – uh – go and do the other thing." Then he began to run into the woods.

"The other thing?" Elladan called out to Ilfrith's back as the slight form hastily plunged into the deepest part of the woods, disappearing from his view. "Don't be long!" he added. Then he sighed. "What do you think of Ilfrith?" he asked his brother.

"What do you mean, 'what do I think of him'?" asked Elrohir.

"Well, do you not think that he is a bit strange?" asked Elladan.

"It is true, he is from Mirkwood," replied Elrohir with a shrug and a shake of his appendage.

"It is not just that." Elladan looked thoughtfully into the soulful blue-grey eyes of his twin. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh, and you must also swear not to tell another living, breathing soul or I will break your arms at the first opportunity that presents itself."

"Brother, brother!" cried Elrohir, feigning alarm while trying to suppress a smile as he re-laced his breeches. "What is it that troubles you so?"

"Well – when you stand close to Ilfrith, do you not feel something odd?" he asked, trying to choose his words carefully.

"Feel something odd? Like what?" asked Elrohir, stopping to stare at his twin expectantly.

"Ah – well – a disturbance of some kind –," Elladan spoke hesitantly as he absentmindedly re-tied his own leggings.

"Disturbance?" Elrohir's eyebrows shot upwards.

"Mmm – yes. Something like a tingling that starts in your knees and winds its way upwards –"

"Oh no!" laughed Elrohir. "Oh, I'm sorry." He put a large hand over his mouth. "Sorry. Please go on."

Elladan blushed furiously. "All right, laugh if you must. But I am inclined to tell you what I feel in every detail so that you may help in showing me how to interpret it," he said very seriously.

"I am sorry."

"Very well," Elladan continued. "It makes me feel that I should be – protective or something – toward Ilfrith in some way. I feel almost as if I should be putting my arms around him and comforting him somehow. Being in close proximity to him makes me break out in a sweat and my mouth becomes dry, and I – I feel a lump in my throat."

"Oh, no!" cried Elrohir, looking slightly alarmed.

"What is it?" Elladan demanded, now feeling alarmed himself.

"You love him!" Elrohir exclaimed.

"What? No! No!" cried Elladan. "No, I don't! I do not feel that way about Ellyn! That is why I am compelled to ask for your advice. I know that I am not drawn to males in that way, therefore the feeling must stem from some other source. Do you not feel the same when you stand beside Ilfrith?"

"I cannot say. I am afraid that I have not had as much opportunity as you, perhaps, to be that close to Ilfrith so far," said Elrohir. The twins were then interrupted in their conversation by the tentative approach of Ilfrith, who had finished his business in the woods and was now walking toward them.

"Here comes an opportunity for you to get close to him now," whispered Elladan, and retreated, leaving Elrohir alone with the object of his curiosity.

ILFRITH'S JOURNAL – ENTRY #2

Today there was an unpleasant occurrence when Elladan became too bold for my liking. The attention that he showed to me was worrisome, for I am afraid that it may lead to the discovery of my secret. Oh, that I could blend more easily into the background and not be noticeable but I am afraid that is not going to be a realistic option for me, and so I must learn to deal with the situation the best way I can.

Elrohir is nice. He is less bold than Elladan and after our supper tonight he came to sit with me and we had a pleasant talk about our homes. Imladris does sound like a very open and good place in which to live. I did not tell him my true opinion of Mirkwood, and only dwelt on the positive aspects of Thranduil's realm when I talked to him about my home. Penlod and Bethos joined us and contributed their own insights into Mirkwood's problems. That left me free to continue with my plan to try to blend into the background and attempt to remain as unobtrusive and unnoticeable as possible. I was glad that my worries over the morning's occurrence have dissipated and do not now seem so ponderous.

When Elrohir returned later in the evening to the tent he shared with his brother, he was able to tell him, "I spent a while conversing with Ilfrith, brother, and did not have any unusual feelings about him such as you described." He undressed quickly and lay down upon his bedroll beside Elladan, who was already bundled up in his blankets.

"No?" Elladan yawned sleepily.

"No," said Elrohir firmly. "Ilfrith is very young, I think," he continued, "and the only thing that bothered me was that I think he may be too young to be on this journey. In that way I can see why you would feel protective of him. But his brother and their friend are strong, capable warriors and they should be protection enough for him. I think that you should try to stay as far away from Ilfrith as possible, for I fear that there is some attraction between you two. It is lucky that we have not run across any troubles so far in our journey, because I think that tomorrow we should ask Ilfrith to turn back and go home. We are only three days out of Imladris, after all."

The next day after lunch, when most of the other Elves were practicing either their sword moves or riding skills before it was time to move on again, Elladan and Elrohir had been called away to take care of a problem concerning one of the other Elves. Two of them, Diriel and Rimion, had been sparring with each other when an accident occurred, and Diriel had been stabbed in the foot. He was now quite lame as a result and there was no chance that he could continue on the mission. Not only that, but Rimion would have to accompany him back to Imladris as Diriel was unfit to travel alone. There was no question now that Ilfrith would have to stay with the group. It was suggested that Ilfrith could accompany Diriel back to Imladris but it was deemed that because of his small size, Ilfrith would not be of much help to Diriel if they were either set upon by enemies or even to lend support Diriel if he had to hobble to a bush to relieve himself.

Ilfrith was sitting back, leaning against a tree and writing in his journal when Gilfanon, who was returning from a round of swordplay with Erenol, another of the warriors, noticed the Mirkwood Elf and came to sit beside him.

"I see you are writing in your journal again," he remarked with a friendly smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Ilfrith looked up at the big warrior. "My doings seem to attract much more attention than I would have warranted," he said with a look of perplexity in his wide, sky-blue eyes.

"Perhaps that is because you are very attractive," said Gilfanon, and moved a little closer to him.

Ilfrith, alarmed, put down his journal and quill and edged further away from the large Elf, around the side of the tree, his blue eyes wide with fright. "Gilfanon –" he began to say in a wavering voice.

Just then Bethos returned from where he had been relieving himself among some nearby trees. "What is going on here?" he asked, worried when he saw Gilfanon and Ilfrith sitting too close for his liking.

"Nothing to cause any worry, friend," replied Gilfanon, looking annoyed as his black brows joined together in a frown. "I was just telling Ilfrith how attractive he is."

Bethos looked startled. His eyes grew wide and he ran a slender hand through his tightly braided hair. He had not anticipated that any of the Imladrian Elves would take a shine to Ilfrith and try to court him. Clearly, he would have to think of something to rescue his friend from what he assumed to be Gilfanon's unwanted advances, judging from the horrified look on Ilfrith's small face.

"Erm – Ilfrith and I have had an understanding for quite some time now," said Bethos, moving to put an arm around Ilfrith's waist. Ilfrith gladly picked up the cue and sank into Bethos's chest, leaning his head thankfully upon the slender but taut pectoral muscles of his friend and companion.

"Oh, I am sorry," said Gilfanon, looking distressed and taking a step backward. "I had no idea you two were together. You hide it very well."

"Yes, well, unfortunately this kind of love between Ellyn is not condoned in Mirkwood," said Bethos, "and therefore we have become so used to keeping our relationship hidden that we are rarely overtly affectionate with each other."

"I never would have guessed," Gilfanon remarked. "I'm sorry to have troubled you," he said to Ilfrith, and quietly took his leave.

"Thank you," said Ilfrith, much relieved, looking at his companion with clear blue eyes still containing an expression of worry.

"You're welcome," said Bethos, gently rubbing Ilfrith's back. "It was lucky that I came back when I did. I think that either Penlod or I will have to make sure we stay as close to you as possible from now on."

"That's probably not necessary," said Ilfrith. "I am sure something like that will not happen again. I am quite shocked by Gilfanon's overture. He always seemed so masculine. I never would have guessed he preferred Ellyn to Elleth."

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	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER THREE

ALL IS REVEALED

Ilfrith was in the process of carrying the tack over to his horse with some difficulty because of its weight and the bulkiness of the saddle when Elladan emerged from his tent, yawning into the morning light and stretching his long limbs toward the sky. He was stark naked. His hair was loose, the raven-black ends flowing about his waist, and the demarcation lines between light and dark in the early morning's brightness were clearly outlined on the hard muscle of his chest, arms and belly. Ilfrith's arms faltered and he dropped his riding gear upon the ground where it fell with a clatter.

Elladan noticed Ilfrith's dilemma immediately and came running toward the small Elf to offer some assistance. The sight of Elladan, stark naked and running towards him, caused Ilfrith to feel palpitations in his narrow chest. "Oh, no! Please do not come near me when you are naked like that—"

Ilfrith's thoughts were cut off as his brother Penlod suddenly appeared from behind him. Putting his hands on Ilfrith's slender shoulders, he turned his sibling around so that Ilfrith was now facing Penlod and was turned away from Elladan. Penlod's eyes saw the panicked look in Ilfrith's own and understood the nature of the small Elf's distress. "Go now! Go!" he whispered to Ilfrith and bent to retrieve the fallen saddle as Elladan reached them. Elladan stopped running and looked curious to see Ilfrith retreating hastily into the trees to the west of the encampment.

"What is wrong with your brother?" he asked Penlod.

"He is feeling sick – something has upset his stomach," replied Penlod, his lips pressed together in a thin line. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide Ilfrith's secret from the others, he thought, and it would only get worse when the time came that they would all have to do battle together. Penlod really did not know when he and Bethos would run out of excuses for Ilfrith to explain his increasingly odd behaviour.

Ilfrith ran on and on through the woods, never wanting to stop. All the time, the vision of naked Elladan was in his thoughts and he could not erase it. The big part Maia, part Elf and part Man was indelibly etched into his consciousness. Every waking hour was spent either thinking about him or else trying to push the image of the dynamic Elf out of his mind. This was not the time to fall in love. Ilfrith stopped running and slammed his slight body up against the smooth trunk of a beech tree, flinging his arms around its circumference and hugging himself to its welcoming warmth. He pressed his face into its smooth comforting bark and began to sob.

Later that day, Penlod's fears came to reality when the rangers stopped to make camp and prepare dinner. They had followed the line of trees to the north and had had an uneventful day of riding, but they had ridden hard and fast and were covered in dust and grime. The day was warm and dust and sweat had mingled on their bodies, caking them in its gritty discomfort. After they had dismounted, Elladan spoke to the group.

"While dinner is being prepared, I want you all to bathe! There is a lake just to the east and when you have set up your tents, please avail yourselves of the fresh water to refill your skins and to swim and have a good wash. We may not be able to do so again until we reach the Hoarwell River in a few days' time. Now I need a volunteer to be the cook tonight. Tifil has become tired of the chore, and we need a replacement."

Ilfrith immediately raised his hand. "I would be happy to do it," he called in his lilting, high-pitched voice.

"Very well, Ilfrith," replied Elladan, looking at him curiously. "After dinner you can avail yourself of the lake's water. I do hope you are feeling better than you were this morning."

Ilfrith's face turned a deep shade of scarlet as he busied himself with gathering the cooking utensils with the help of Tifil, who had done the cooking that lunch-time and had put everything away. All of the other Elves pitched their tents as swiftly as possible and then withdrew to the lake. Some of them had already disrobed and others remained clothed as they meandered off in the direction of the water. His face in a perpetual state of flush, Ilfrith kept his head down to attend to the meal and also so that he would not be able to see the other Elves' nudity. Elladan did not go with the others, but remained behind, watching Ilfrith closely. After a while he sauntered up to the little bronze-haired Elf while Ilfrith tasted the stew he had made with a long-handled wooden spoon.

"How goes the food preparation, Ilfrith?" Elladan asked, his eyes searching the blue ones of the Mirkwood Elf.

"Oh, it is going well," replied Ilfrith, speaking in a low voice. "I have made biscuits out of lard and flour. Some of them contain bits of apple. I though they might make a good dessert. The main dish will be a stew made from the rabbits we caught earlier and the carrots, potatoes and celery that we brought with us."

"It smells delightful," said Elladan. "It would seem that you are a good cook, Ilfrith."

Ilfrith blushed prettily at the compliment and at the proximity of Elladan, and returned Elladan's direct gaze. Both Elves felt strange stirrings in their respective bellies but neither spoke of it to the other. In fact, both of them developed an attractive flush in their cheeks and then looked quickly away from each other. Elladan resisted giving Ilfrith's arm a comforting pat and he got to his feet instead and walked away.

Later on, while all of the other rangers except for Ilfrith and Elladan enjoyed the meal, Ilfrith announced that he would be going down to the lake to wash before he returned to clean the dishes. Elladan was nowhere in sight. Elrohir also stated that he would be going to gather more firewood for use throughout the night. Ilfrith turned eastward and Elrohir meandered to the south where the tree growth was heavier. When Ilfrith reached the lake, he put down his basket full of washing items: soap, brush, comb and towels; on the grass near the shoreline and stripped down to his light undershirt and leggings. He stepped into the water and dove under the surface to swim farther out. The lake had a long shoreline that stretched out into the blue water and when the tide was low the water level remained shallow for at least a hundred yards before it grew deeper.

Ilfrith surfaced when the water was waist-high and opened his eyes, pulling the long braid of his hair from over his shoulder to lie against his back. Suddenly, a figure popped up beside him and he screamed with fright. It was Elladan. Ilfrith's scream had startled the tall Elf so that he reached out and grabbed Ilfrith's arm, giving it a shake. His eyes darkened in anger. "Don't do that! If any Orcs are about, they may hear you! What is wrong with you, Ilfrith?"

Ilfrith gulped and his eyes turned downward to look over Elladan's glistening body. The Imladrian was fully naked as he had been that morning, and he stood in the water that reached to just above his knees. Ilfrith could not help but notice the large appendage that swung between his legs, that was reflected also in the clear lake water, and found himself wondering how he was going to remain appearing aloof and disinterested in Elladan's presence. "What are you looking at?" asked Elladan, startling Ilfrith out of his reverie. Ilfrith immediately turned crimson and averted his eyes from Elladan's groin. He tried to turn around to flee.

"Oh no you don't, my friend!" hissed Elladan, grabbing the smaller Elf from behind, with a long arm clasped around both of Ilfrith's, successfully pinning them to his sides. "Now it's your turn! Let's see what you've got in your leggings!" And Elladan reached below with his free hand to grasp the waistband of Ilfrith's leggings and yank them downwards. Ilfrith tried to kick his legs out to prevent the intrusion on his person, but Elladan was too strong and fast and now the leggings were trapping Ilfrith's legs together at the knees so he could not move. He bucked his hips and whimpered as he could feel Elladan pressing against the back of his buttocks. Elladan peered over Ilfrith's shoulder to look down between his legs. What he saw made him gasp and then spin Ilfrith around to face him. "Why, you have nothing there at all!" he exclaimed in horror, and then sat down in the lake, splashing heavily into the water from the shock of the discovery. From that vantage point he gazed at the shapely thighs of the small Elf before Ilfrith dropped the tunic to cover them. Then realization dawned on Elladan as Ilfrith continued to whimper and then began to cry.

Elladan jumped to his feet and reached out to lift up Ilfrith's tunic. Underneath it was revealed a band of cloth tied tightly around a shapely chest. Elladan undid its ties and gently pulled it down to reveal a pair of round, soft-looking breasts, their nipples rosy from having been squashed for many days by the uncomfortable-looking band.

"You are Elleth!" he gasped. "You are Elleth!" he repeated, and a huge smile broke out on his face. "Oh, that explains so much!" he cried, and forgetting that he was naked, he drew Ilfrith close to him, wrapping his long arms around her and hugging her to him tightly.

"What is going on?" cried a voice from the shore. They both turned to see Elrohir, who had come to the lake to join his brother for a swim and who had undressed and was naked also. This sight was clearly too much for Ilfrith, who put her hands to her face and began to cry loudly. Elladan reached out to embrace her again, but stopped and jumped back as he realized the inappropriateness of the situation. He, as a son of Elrond of Rivendell, could not allow this to continue. Not to mention that he had manhandled an Elf-maiden and had exposed her private parts in the outdoors, in the middle of a lake. He began to wade toward Elrohir, but he stopped instead and turned back to Ilfrith.

"I am so sorry, Ilfrith. Please dress yourself. Please accept my apologies. I feel terrible for what I have done to you. I need to speak with my brother, and then I will need to speak with you as soon as possible about the reason for your disguise. Would you please join us in a few moments when you are ready and allow us time to reclothe ourselves?"

Ilfrith nodded, her sobs beginning to decrease as she took notice of Elladan's kindly tone.

"Brother, what is going on here?" cried Elrohir, his curiosity piqued when he noticed the crying Ilfrith in the water, obviously very upset. "What have you done to our little Mirkwood Elf?"

"Nothing, I assure you!" cried a frustrated Elladan. "Come into the trees with me! I have something to tell you!" Elladan explained that he had discovered Ilfrith's secret, and that she was not male, but was an Elf-maiden.

"You surprise me, brother," said Elrohir. "When you thought Ilfrith was a male you were confused because you admitted you are not attracted to your own sex—yet you were attracted to Ilfrith. But now that you have discovered that she has been in disguise, you should be happy."

"It is not that—I just feel I behaved badly in the confusion—I was rough with her and not at all gallant—I do not like to behave that way."

"It was because of all the confusion that you acted like a ruffian," said Elrohir. "I do not believe that you are discourteous by nature, nor treated her ungallantly—not when you consider what appears on the face of it—you can make your apologies to her later for the way you treated her. As for me, I am confused still—I find that I feel disappointed to have discovered that Ilfrith is a female."

Elladan regarded his twin with curious interest. "Now that will bear some discussion between us, but at a later time," he said. "Are you saying that you felt more attracted to Ilfrith when the concept of her being a male was the reality and that you are now disappointed with the outcome of all this confusion?"

Elrohir shook his mane of glossy hair. "I have some thinking to do," he said. "Ah, there—I see her approaching in the distance. I will be off and leave you two alone to discuss things." He hurriedly pulled on his trousers, picked up his shirt, and with a brief wave to Ilfrith he was off.

7


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FOUR

ILFRITH'S JOURNAL – ENTRY #3

I was about to fall asleep last night, being exhausted from the day's events, when I heard a rustling sound. I was alone in my tent. Prior to Elladan's discovery that I am female I shared shelter with Penlod, my brother, and our friend Bethos. But it has been declared by Elladan that this is no longer proper and he demanded that a separate tent be pitched for me every night when we stop to make camp. I think that this new rule is ridiculous because Penlod and I have been sleeping together up until now with Bethos, and no impropriety has occurred. Now Bethos has been unceremoniously kicked out of the tent and must share with Gilfanon of all people! Penlod is sharing with Tifil, which is not bad because Tifil is nice, at least. A new guard is to be posted outside every evening and that makes me feel better. But poor Bethos!

I suspected that it was the guard who was making the rustling noise outside my tent and so I closed my eyes and prepared to drift off to sleep. But I was fully awakened by the touch of something against my lips. My eyes flew open because I was startled by the sensation.

"Shhh," whispered a voice. "Do not cry out lest you disturb Penlod and Tifil in the next tent." It was Elladan, and he held his finger to my lips.

"What do you want?" I asked. I strained my eyes to see him in the darkness. I felt a little thrill in my belly because of the image of his naked form that was imprinted in my mind. I could not shake it loose even if I wanted to. I noticed that my heart was pounding.

"Ilfrith—" Elladan's voice was soft. He caressed me with his throaty voice as if it were his hands roaming over my body. "You know what I want and I believe you want it also. Let me lie with you", he purred.

"Elladan," I whispered, and I did not stop him. I let him stay in my tent and I welcomed him into my arms. We made love to each other tenderly and slowly. As big as he is, he was very gentle with our first kiss. I smelled his musky scent and breathed it in deeply, my arms wrapped about his neck and my face buried into the flesh below his shoulder. His skin felt smooth and warm as I ran my hands over his shoulders and back, and down the deliciously hard muscles of his arms. He planted his pliant lips upon mine and began to kiss me, first tenderly, then more passionately, until our kisses became feverish and frantic.

I helped him to remove his clothing. "Oh, Ilfrith," he moaned against my hair and I could feel his warm breath whisper along the tip of my ear.

"Elladan…" I breathed. I turned my face toward him again and felt his hand on my neck, caressing it just below my chin. I sank into his warm touch and shivered with anticipation as his smooth hands stroked my skin from the base of my neck to my chest. I lifted slightly to let his fingers find the hooks on my shirt and slide them undone. I reached into his caresses, longing for his touch.

I moaned and he ground his body against mine. In the dark I imagined him as I remembered seeing him in his naked glory—his toffee-colored skin, tanned and virile, his proud nakedness exposed and displayed before me. I anticipated and cherished the thought of making love to him.

"Ai! Elladan, I beseech you!" I cried when we completed the act, peaking in waves of pleasure that crashed over me like the foamy seawater against the shore.

After he had brought me to climax he moved to lie beside me once again and took my hand in his. His scent was musky and his skin was warm and damp as I felt it alongside mine. He lay in my arms until the early morning, before the first light of dawn began to rise.

Every few minutes we kissed each other again but we did not repeat the act of sex for fear of waking the others. No one woke, a fact that surprised me for I felt our cries of passion would surely have reached as far as Mandos' Halls in Valinor. I wanted to speak to him of love for I surely felt it. "Elladan –," I started to say, but he took my hand and kissed it. "Ilfrith –" he said in return and I heard amusement in his voice when he stopped me from speaking.

"How are we – what should we –" I tried to voice my thoughts but they were jumbled and I could not successfully ask him what I wanted to know.

He sighed and sat up, stretching his lithe body. "Ilfrith, we will talk again of this thing between us," he said tenderly, and turned his beautiful face to look at me. I saw sincerity in his deep grey eyes. His dark lashes fluttered and my heart leapt a little with hope that he loved me in return. He lifted my hand to his desirable lips and kissed it again before letting it go and rising to his feet. I gazed once more at his splendid form and smiled at him, expectation and hope mingling in my heart as he turned and disappeared through the tent flap.

3


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER FIVE

APOLOGIES

On the following night, Elladan and Elrohir lay together in their own tent and discussed what to do with Ilfrith. They had both spoken to her after the discovery of her disguise, and at first Elrohir thought it would be best if she were to return to Imladris; however, Elladan protested, explaining that they had already come too far, that someone would have to accompany her back, and they could not spare any more warriors from their now depleted group of nine. He pointed out that there were only eight warriors in actuality—since Ilfrith was female—that they could count on in a battle. Elladan had asked her if Ilfrith was her real name and she had said it was. Then he asked her pointedly why she was traveling in disguise and she had replied honestly that she wished to escape from Thranduil's realm and was not intending ever to return.

"But we go to search for his son," Elladan said, "and you are one of us who does so. Why would you risk yourself? Is he not your friend?"

"The son, yes. He is dear to all residents of Mirkwood. The father is another matter," Ilfrith replied, but she refused to give any more details. "Sometime I shall tell you the rest," she said, "but first I wish to discuss the inevitable ramifications of that revelation with my brother and Bethos. They know why I am here."

"Very well," Elladan replied calmly, yet he had much curiosity concerning her statement. "So Penlod really is your brother?"

Ilfrith nodded in response to that question.

"I cannot begin to tell you, Ilfrith, how sorry I am that I discovered your secret in such a manner and treated you poorly," Elladan said to her in a kind voice.

Her heart melted at his apology, and she blinked several times to fight back her tears. She felt like crying. The whole ordeal had been too much for her, but she did not blame Elladan for what he had done when he thought she was a male. "Please do not apologize, Sir," she whispered. "You did no wrong." Boldly, she looked up at him and said, "You did nothing that caused me any injury."

He shifted as if in discomfort and scrutinized her closely. "In any case, I am embarrassed that I put you in such a position. I am really very sorry, Ilfrith. But please do not continue to call me 'Sir'. I am merely 'Elladan', as always."

She blushed and gazed at him with affection.

He said to her with a serious note in his voice, "Ilfrith, I would like your opinion on whether you think it better to remain disguised as a male, or if you would like your true identity to be known to the other rangers."

She thought for a moment and replied, "I think it is better if I keep my disguise."

"But Ilfrith," Elladan protested. "There will be more occasions where trouble could occur if you try to keep your gender hidden. What if someone else notices that you are not bathing with them or otherwise, as I did?"

Ilfrith could not suppress a laugh. "I would handle it in the same way as I did before with you. Do not worry about me!"

"But what if Gilfanon were to attack you in the lake as I have just done? I think it is better to reveal yourself as a female and let Elrohir and I protect you."

Elrohir nodded in agreement.

She gasped with dread at the thought of that possibility. Her hand flew to her mouth. She did not want any more confrontations with Gilfanon, whose perceived intentions terrified her.

Elladan rose and moved to take her hands in his. He gazed at her earnestly, an expression of concern in his grey eyes, his brow knitting. Her heart fluttered and she moved a little closer to him. "All right, mellon-nin," she said, and squeezed his hands reassuringly. "You are right. Let us tell them who I really am."

He rewarded her with a brilliant smile and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Her heart fluttered once more to see his beautiful smile.

Elrohir leapt forward and kissed her on the other cheek, laughing as he did so. "My turn to thank Ilfrith," he said.

"I am blessed to have come under the protection of the two most handsome and valiant Elves in all of Imladris," she said. They laughed at this compliment, then the twins each took one of her hands. The three of them walked hand in hand back to the encampment to tell the other Elves of Ilfrith's secret.

When they reached the tents, they saw that the other warriors were standing around Bethos, watching him putting on a show with his knives. He was in the middle of a circle of Elves, twirling his long-bladed knives while whirling about and demonstrating some of the attack moves used in Mirkwood. It was quite an impressive and attractive display, not only of the fast and deft knife maneuvers, but also of Bethos' form, shown to good advantage by his intricate steps and stretches. His silky golden hair flew around his head like a triumphant banner as he twisted and turned. It was quite a mesmerizing sight. Elladan, Ilfrith and Elrohir approached the group quietly in the total silence that surrounded him.

Bethos was first to notice them and stopped his moves. He stood, panting slightly with his lips parted, his slender but shapely chest heaving a little as he tried to catch his breath. His pale green shirt was undone to the navel, his discarded brown tunic lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, and a few strands of his golden hair were stuck to his cheeks. Gilfanon was staring at him with a gleam in his eyes and when the blond Elf stopped his knife-play so abruptly, Gilfanon moved quickly to pick up Bethos's tunic and a water skin with which to give him a drink. Gilfanon was the only one who had not noticed the approach of the new arrivals, so mesmerized was he by Bethos's display. He lifted the water skin to Bethos's lips, and was about to brush away a strand of hair from the Elf's flushed face, when he finally noticed that Bethos was staring at something a distance away from the group. Gilfanon turned to look where everyone else's gaze was directed.

There were a few gasps among the Elves when they saw Elladan and Elrohir flanking Ilfrith. All three were holding hands. She had undone her braid and her bronze-coloured hair fell loosely about her torso. She had removed her tunic and the band that had been holding her breasts flat, and her thin shirt was open to expose her lovely neck and the swells of her breasts could be seen through the fabric. The three of them made a stunning picture. Elladan's and Elrohir's hair was unbound and fell in dark waves to their waists, and their white shirts were fully open, exposing their tanned and muscular chests. There were whistles from some of the Elves and Penlod darted forward to embrace his sister. "Ilfrith!" he cried. "What has happened? Are you all right?"

"I am fine, brother," she replied, laughing. "Elladan found me out. It is a long story. We will need to talk later, as the twins wish to know why I am traveling in disguise and why I do not wish not to return to Mirkwood." She squeezed her worried brother's hand reassuringly.

Elladan spoke up. "We would like to inform everyone that Ilfrith is Elleth, and that she has been traveling with us in disguise. The reason for that is personal and she does not have to make that reason known to you if she does not wish it. I wish to discuss sleeping arrangements, because with this new knowledge we feel it is best to make some changes. Ilfrith is to have her own tent with a guard posted outside at night. I know I can trust most of you not to approach her inappropriately, but I feel it is better to do this to ensure Ilfrith's safety." He looked pointedly at Gilfanon, who returned his gaze with an expression of shock. There were a few howls of protest from the other warriors, but they acquiesced to Elladan's request. "I will take first watch tonight," he continued, "and then Elrohir will relieve me. Penlod, you can share a tent with Tifil and Bethos, I want you to move in with Gilfanon. That is all!"

Gilfanon, astonished, looked at Bethos, who looked back at him with a tiny, enigmatic smile and a shrug. Gilfanon's face broke into a huge grin. "Come with me, little one. We need to talk," he said, and pulled Bethos into his tent.

ILFRITH'S JOURNAL – ENTRY #4

I shall not try to hide my feelings any longer. I am in love with Elladan, but I do not yet know of his true feelings for me. He is very busy, along with Elrohir, in trying to lead this band of warriors into wild and unknown lands, and therefore I do not blame him for not wanting to begin a romantic relationship at this time. And speaking of romantic relationships—I do not think I need worry any longer about the unwanted attentions of Gilfanon. He appears to be besotted with Bethos, and much to my astonishment, Bethos does not appear to mind. I wonder if Elladan knew what he was doing when he put them in a tent together! Penlod and I had a long talk about my decision to leave Mirkwood and whether or not I should tell Elladan and Elrohir about it. I think I probably should, as by now Thranduil has likely told Lord Elrond, and they will find out the truth eventually when we return home. Things are complicated now in any regard, because I know that I love Elladan and I mean to make him mine.

However, I must be careful when I explain to him my relationship with Thranduil and the fact that Thranduil means to make me his wife although I do not wish for that. The king and I are not yet betrothed and I refuse to become one with him. I do not love him and I despise his politics and the manner in which he rules his realm. I cannot live in a warlike atmosphere. It is too militaristic. It is paternalistic too, which I find distasteful, and there are too many rules and regulations. I would not be surprised to find that Legolas has willingly run away for the same reasons. His sense of freedom must be disappointingly crushed. But because Aragorn is with him and there would be no reason for them both to have run away from their homes, that is likely not the cause of their disappearance.

I like the way that Lord Elrond runs Rivendell with an open-minded eye for the social integration of many different peoples: Elves, Men and Dwarves. I would love to live there permanently as Elladan's wife. I must work hard to make this happen! Well, that is all I can write for now, as Elladan says tomorrow we shall reach the Hoarwell River and then we shall be in Orc territory! When we cross the river we will be in unknown lands and our fate to be decided there, undoubtedly.

6


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SIX

REMNANT GHOSTS

On the last night before the rangers were to journey on to the Hoarwell River and the Ettenmoors, Ilfrith made a special dinner of her rabbit stew and she added dumplings to it that she had made for the men as a special treat. Elrohir brought out a bottle of wine that he saved to drink when a meaningful occasion presented itself. All of the warriors raised their cups and made a toast to the mission. "To Legolas and Aragorn," Elrohir proposed. "May we find you both safe and unharmed." The men raised their tin cups in silence to make the grim toast as every one of them felt the gravity of the impending difficulties to be faced.

After dinner when the other rangers had wandered off to do their own chores or to simply relax, Elladan offered to help Ilfrith wash the dishes and help dispose of the rest of the food. They heated a big kettle of water over a fire and they placed the plates, cups and utensils in it to boil them clean. In the early morning Ilfrith would rise before anyone else and pack them all away for the next day's journey. When they were burying the remnants of the food so that its smell of rotting rabbit flesh and souring broth would not attract scavengers, Elladan spoke to Ilfrith quietly.

"Would you mind very much if I visited your tent again tonight?" he asked in a fervent whisper. She smiled happily as she pressed the earth back over the trench that they had dug, stamping up and down on it with both her feet to flatten the dirt.

"It would upset me greatly," she said, and then giggled impishly at the look of surprised disappointment on his face. "If you did not," she continued and laughed softly. Elladan sighed and smiled, reaching out to stroke her burnished hair. He admired how it glowed brightly with a reddish-golden sheen from the setting sun. Arm in arm they strolled back toward Ilfrith's tent.

"Elrohir can stand watch tonight," said Elladan.

"But it is Penlod's turn," said Ilfrith with surprise.

"Do you really want your brother to sit outside our – YOUR – tent while we make love?" Elladan asked and leaned over to nibble the tip of Ilfrith's tender ear. She sighed and shuddered with pleasure.

"But Elrohir is YOUR brother," she retorted.

"Yes, but Elrohir and I are twins and we – ah – share certain things," Elladan tried to explain.

"Oh! Are you telling me that you have told him private, personal secrets about our intimate moments?" she asked, beginning to become angry.

"No! No, never that!" he replied in alarm. "No! I was referring to certain other – understandings that twins have between each other. It is very hard to explain. Some other time I shall try to tell you, but not now. I do not want to spoil this moment."

"You spoke of OUR tent," she said, changing the subject. "Do you think that we should share my tent from now on? That would make things easier on the others. They would not have to stand guard all night anymore. I would always have you with me and that is the only protection I would require."

"I think that is a grand idea," said Elladan. "Let me go to speak with Elrohir to let him know that I will be sleeping in your tent tonight. I shall be back in a moment."

A few minutes later, Elladan entered Ilfrith's tent and sat down upon the blankets that she had neatly arranged inside. Elladan looked at her questioningly. "Would you mind that everyone know about us?" he asked. "Should we announce to the others that we are betrothed?"

A shadow crossed Ilfrith's pretty face and she looked away from Elladan for a moment as she considered telling him about Thranduil and her other secret. "Elladan," she said slowly, swiftly preparing her speech. "There is nothing I would like more than to bond with you because I love you with all my heart. But I must tell you something first, for if I do not it will always be an obstacle between us that will perhaps mar our feelings for each other."

Elladan regarded her curiously as he slipped out of his tunic and then peeled off his light undershirt. "Elladan, would you please stop undressing for a moment?" she asked him. "You will distract me so that I will not be able to concentrate on telling you what I need to reveal." He stopped disrobing as she had asked and looked at her with expectant alarm.

"I ran away from Mirkwood," she explained, and her breath hitched as a ragged sigh escaped from her throat. "Penlod and Bethos helped me. They were to take Thranduil's message to your father, but it was never intended that I should go with them. I left home of my own accord, and they understood and assisted me with my disguise so that I could leave Mirkwood undetected. Our ruse was a success. No one immediately followed us to capture me and take me back. By now I know that Lord Elrond will have been made aware of my escape." She paused to take a breath.

"Escape?" Elladan's voice took on a shocked tone as he sat upright and took Ilfrith's hands in his. "Escape from your home? It is a very odd thing to hear someone speak of escaping from their own home. Whatever made you feel you must do such a thing?"

She squeezed Elladan's hands in response and looked at him with tears in her bright eyes. "Thranduil means to marry me," she said sadly, "but I do not love him and I do not wish to be his wife."

Elladan looked stunned at this news. "What are you saying, Ilfrith? That you are Thranduil's betrothed and you have run away from him and immediately taken up with me?" He let go of her hands.

"No!" she cried, and her hands flew nervously to her face. "We are NOT betrothed! I left before we could become so! I shall not marry Thranduil! I hate him!"

"But Thranduil is a friend of father's," said Elladan, still not digesting the full impact of what Ilfrith had just told him. "And he is my friend as well, and Elrohir's. He is a good person. And his son Legolas is one of our best friends and one of the kindest and most personable people I have ever known. And because he is Thranduil's son, I would suspect that some of his fine traits have been inherited from his father!"

"Yes, yes, Thranduil is a fine person," said Ilfrith. "They are both good, worthy people. Essentially. But Thranduil rules harshly and I do not like him for that. He—"

"But it is necessary for him to be hard," Elladan interrupted. "It is because of these evil times. It has not been that long since the dark force left Dol Guldur and there is still much terror shadowing those lands."

"Yes," said Ilfrith, "But the times are difficult everywhere in Middle-earth, and yet your own father runs his realm much more diplomatically than Thranduil runs ours."

"Ah, yes, but they are two vastly different realms," said Elladan, "with different dynamics and different problems. You can't compare them with each other."

"Elladan," Ilfrith said. "Perhaps we could discuss the different politics of the two realms at another time, for now I only wished for you to know my secret so that it would not stand as an obstruction between us if it had been left unspoken."

Elladan gulped back the words he was about to speak and examined Ilfrith's face closely. In her innocent-looking wide blue eyes and her smooth, unwrinkled skin, and the sweet, soft set of her lips, he could detect no intensity, no holding back of emotion. He believed that she told him truthfully of her reasons for leaving Mirkwood and that there was nothing between her and Thranduil except for one-sided desire to wed her on his part. Elladan decided that he also did not want to talk about it anymore, and raised a soothing hand to cup her chin and stroke her cheek.

"It will not come between us," he said, "For I will not let that happen. I love you, tender little flower that you are."

"Elladan, you are my heart," she moaned, and pressed herself against him, her lips seeking his, her hands entwined in his hair. After the kiss she pulled back and started to undo his braids. His hands sought the opening of her shirt, deftly undid the clasps, slid the fabric open to caress her breasts and ran his hands down the ridges of her ribs to rest on her waist. He encompassed her slender middle with his large hands, his thumbs touching in the centre of her belly, his fingertips coming together over the ridge in the middle of her back. She lowered her arms and let him pull the shirt down and off of her slender body. Then he pulled her against him, her cool flesh and soft breasts against his hot, hard-muscled chest, and he stood, lifting her up with him.

His head touched the roof of the tent so that he could not stand to his full height. He leaned forward and unlaced Ilfrith's leggings, noting how loose they had become as they hung on her hips. "You are becoming too thin. I worry about your strength, Ilfrith," he remarked.

"Shh. Not now," she whispered, and reached for his waistband. He looked larger than ever, if that were possible, but it was perhaps because of her comparative slightness. She untied his leggings slowly, reveling in the hard lines of his taut body. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her and eased both himself and Ilfrith to their knees. They kissed passionately, and Ilfrith leaned backwards until she was lying on the blankets with Elladan atop her.

He lifted her and sat her on top of his thighs so that she could stroke him with her hands and bend forward to kiss him. He moaned her name and writhed beneath her touches. "Ilfrith – I need you," he cried passionately. She raised her head and stared at him fondly.

"He is the perfect warrior before battle," she thought. "His nerves are on edge and he needs release quickly."

She rolled off of him to lie at his side and let him move his body atop hers. With a steady, fluid motion, he rocked back and forth, moving Ilfrith up and down. He used great skill and precision so that it did not hurt her. She screamed not from pain but from love and lust and indescribable enjoyment.

The next morning Ilfrith rose early before dawn to pack up the supper dishes from the night before and she began to boil water in a small kettle to make tea for those who would desire it when they arose. She busied herself with her chores and after a few minutes was surprised to see Bethos and Gilfanon emerge from their tent carrying fresh clothing. "Good morning! We are going for an early swim," Bethos called to her, a radiant smile lighting his face that would rival the fair morning sun when it arose.

"Good morning, Bethos! And you, Gilfanon!" she called after them as they made their way to a stream that was downhill from the campsite amid a small wooded area. She shook her head in amused curiosity, watching the big, dark-haired, Noldorin warrior Gilfanon follow the slight, slender blond Silvan Bethos down the slope to the ravine.

Ilfrith was so busy packing up the Elves' supplies and pouring cups of tea for everyone who wanted some that she did not notice that Bethos and Gilfanon had not returned from the woods. Elladan emerged from the tent fully dressed in warrior garb, in grey suede tunic and leggings over a pale grey heavy shirt. He had already clasped his vambraces onto his wrists and attached his sword-belt to his waist. He gave Ilfrith a kiss and went to Elrohir's tent to wake him. One by one the other Elves made themselves and their horses ready to depart and it was only when they began to strike the tents that Penlod noticed that Bethos and Gilfanon were missing.

Elladan was annoyed by this discovery. "Where have those two disappeared?" he asked curtly. "Has anyone seen them?"

"Yes, I have," Ilfrith replied. She began to worry because it was not typical behaviour for either Bethos or Gilfanon to be tardy or inefficient. She remembered too, that neither of them had been carrying their weapons. "I saw them. They said they were going down to the stream when I first started the water boiling for the tea. They are unarmed."

"That was more than an hour ago!" cried Elladan. "Elrohir, come," he called to his brother. "We shall go to look for them." The two brothers hurried toward the ravine while the other Elves finished striking the tents and packed up the remaining gear. Penlod packed Bethos' and Gilfanon's things, and made their horses ready. After a few moments had passed the other Elves could see Elladan racing back up the hill.

"Tifil! Peleg!" he cried, and Ilfrith could see even from a distance that he was extremely upset. "Come quickly!"

The two Imladrian warriors dropped their tack and ran toward Elladan. He spoke a few words to them that Ilfrith could not hear and then all three Elves plunged down into the ravine. Ilfrith turned and ran to where Penlod was finishing readying his own horse. "Brother, something is wrong!" she cried. "What should we do? I am afraid something has happened to Bethos!"

"We must stay here, sister!" Penlod said, his face grim, his lips pulled into a tight line and the muscles of his jaw clenching. "Everyone else has gone to find out what happened. We should arm ourselves." He went into his tent and came out with two long knives. He sheathed one and gave the other to her. Then he put his arms around her and held her closely. Ilfrith, realizing that she and Penlod were now completely alone, suddenly became fearful and hugged her brother for support. The two sat down and waited but they knew not for what.

When Elladan and Elrohir first arrived at the stream, they saw the clothing that the two Elves, Bethos and Gilfanon, had been wearing scattered upon the bank, but no sign of those two Elves. On checking the ground for signs or tracks, the twins noticed the Elves' footprints in the mud leading from the pile of scattered clothes down into the water. "There is nothing unusual there," thought Elladan, but Elrohir called his attention to something farther along the bank that he had walked over to examine. When Elladan followed, he saw that Elrohir was pointing to some evidence that a struggle had taken place on the shore. There were many different footprints, some of them not much more than scuff marks and signs that something – or someone – had been dragged along the ground. After a brief search they found a most alarming thing - a piece of torn cloth that was stuck to the thorny branch of a hawthorn tree. It was of a heavy dark grey fabric. It felt rather like burlap, but it was like nothing that any Elves of their company wore.

"Oh, Valar!" Elrohir swore as he noticed something on the ground below the branch. There were drops of a spilled liquid on the grass; fresh and still dripping in glistening dark drops to the slender green blades.

"Blood!" hissed Elladan between gritted teeth. "It's probably from an Orc attack, although Orcs are usually not so silent when they come upon you. I'm going to get help! Don't move from this spot, Elrohir, and draw your sword in case they are still nearby!" And he dashed back up the slope toward camp.

Elrohir stood staring at the fresh blood, his senses reeling, trying to determine what may have happened, when he became aware of a faint whimpering sound. It was coming from within the wooded area, and he dashed toward it. There, to a tree with his feet suspended about three feet from the ground, his hands bound behind him, was Bethos. He was naked, his head lolling upon his chest, and his abdomen was covered in a dark red substance. Fearing that the red substance was blood and that Bethos had been gravely injured, Elrohir reached up to touch the blonde Elf's stomach to assess his wounds. But the blood was smeared on Bethos in a strange design, of crude pattern, and it was not his own. He appeared to be uninjured.

"Gilfanon," Bethos sobbed and he opened his eyes at Elrohir's touch. "They have taken Gilfanon."

Shocked, Elrohir reached up and began to cut the bonds that held the fair Elf to the tree. When he was lowered, Elrohir put his hand under Bethos's chin and lifted it so that he could look into the blue eyes that were brimming with tears. The haunted look in them frightened Elrohir. "Who, Bethos? Who has taken Gilfanon?" he asked.

"They – them – the people in the dark robes," Bethos sobbed.

"Who are they? Orcs?" whispered Elrohir.

"No. They – they are – different –"said Bethos, the look in his eyes growing increasingly haunted. "They spoke in a strange tongue I did not know and I could not understand them. Some of them are – they have – only one eye." He shivered.

"Wait," said Elrohir, shocked and wanting time to absorb what Bethos had told him. "I will get your clothes. Have you been hurt at all?"

Bethos bit his lip and shook his head. Elrohir ran back to the stream to retrieve some of the scattered clothing he had seen on the ground and brought it back to Bethos. While the pale Elf dressed, Elrohir remembered what he had said about the strange people. "Only one eye?" he asked.

"Yes," said Bethos. "And some of them had only one arm. And others only one leg." He looked at Elrohir with an expression of horror widening his eyes.

"Where have they gone?" Elrohir asked.

Bethos pointed northwards. "That way," he said. "They have taken Gilfanon and that is not all." He began whimpering again.

Elrohir gulped and his heart jumped, a feeling of fright tightening his chest.

"What is it?" he asked, placing a hand on the small Elf's shoulder, trying to both steady himself and reassure Bethos at the same time.

"The blood on me is his," Bethos said with a gasp, and burst into tears.

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	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER SEVEN

INTERLUDE: SOLVING A PUZZLE

Legolas stirred in his sleep. His dreams were pleasant, and that fact disturbed him. They should not have been pleasant. He tossed and turned.

'Lothlórien—roof of gold—pillars of silver—once upon a time I was glad of heart.' A fleeting memory of rainbows, golden flowers and the clean waters of the Nimrodel passed through his mind and he awakened, a chill causing his senses to return and his body to jerk itself out of slumber. He sat up quickly and looked around for Aragorn.

His gaze fell upon the Man lying approximately ten yards away from him on the ground next to the dregs of the fire. It had begun to rain and the overcast sky made it look like it was still night-time.

On hands and knees, Legolas crawled to Aragorn's side. "Aragorn!" he cried in a harsh whisper. "Are you awake?" He noticed that his friend was clad in only his breeches. His shirt, belt, weapons, boots and cloak had been removed. Legolas was dressed the same—a quick check told him so—all had been stripped away except for his leggings. He bent over Aragorn and shook the young Man, rolling him over onto his back, and checked him for injuries. He could find none. After examining himself, Legolas realized that he, also, was unscathed.

'Where is everyone?' he thought. He tested his memory. Halbarad and Vëandur had run off—he suspected they would go back to the Ranger encampment for help and then return. He and Aragorn must try to stay alive and unharmed until Halbarad and the other Rangers came back to assist them.

But where were all of the strange people who had captured Aragorn and himself, and why had they left them alone in the middle of a field with all of their possessions gone?

"Aragorn, are you awake enough to think properly?" asked Legolas, pulling the man into a sitting position. "How does your head feel?"

Aragorn groaned and pushed his tangled hair back with a shaking hand. "Head…hurts," he grunted.

"I am sure it does, but try to pull yourself together," said Legolas. "We need to think about what we must do."

"Have we any water?" asked the Man, his voice hoarse.

Legolas sighed and climbed to the top of the surrounding hill. "I can see a pond not far off," he said. "Wait here. I will go and get some." He walked over to the remnants of the bonfire and picked up a charred but bowl-shaped piece of wood.

"Where would I go, my friend, if I wanted to leave?" asked Aragorn with a derisive snort.

Legolas threw him a look intended to chastise and walked down the hill to the pond that he had seen a couple of hundred paces to the south.

After bringing water back for Aragorn, and the young Man had refreshed himself somewhat, Legolas gazed upon him with a thoughtful stare.

"What is it?" asked the Man. "I feel uncomfortable enough without your unblinking gaze unnerving me."

Legolas gave him a wry smile and looked away. He stood and looked all about the surrounding lands.

"Where do you think our attackers have gone?" asked Aragorn. He sat back on his heels and poured the remainder of the water in the wooden vessel over his head and let it drip to the ground. He massaged his scalp with his hands and tried to smooth his hair back from his forehead before he looked up at his friend, the Elf.

"Most likely they are chasing Halbarad and Vëandur, who will undoubtedly lead them to the rest of the Rangers," replied Legolas.

"Then the Rangers will kill them," said Aragorn. "And come back here for us."

"I do not wish to wait here," said Legolas, "but we have no guarantee that they will be returning. Anything could happen."

"What do you propose we do?" asked Aragorn. "We could wait here, but we are unarmed, we have no food, and without our weapons we cannot kill to eat."

"We will have to return to the Ranger camp," said Legolas, "in the direction from which we came, in hope that the Rangers will overtake us. It will be difficult because we have no clothes other than our trousers, and are unshod as well as unarmed. But if you want to do it, I am willing."

Aragorn groaned and rose unsteadily to his feet. He shook his legs and stretched his back. "Let us waste no more time," he said. "We may as well be off now as soon as ever."

The two friends made their way to the stand of trees where the horses had been tied, hoping that Halbarad and Vëandur had left theirs behind, but the grove was empty of life.

"Halbarad would have left us our mounts," said Legolas. "Our attackers must have taken them. We shall have to journey on foot."

They made their way slowly southward. The walk was slow and difficult without their boots. It was particularly painful for Aragorn, but Legolas, being light of foot and tough of skin, had no problem traversing the rough terrain although his delicate appearance belied it.

"What sort of beings captured us?" asked Aragorn.

"They were not Orcs," Legolas replied, his brow furrowed. "But they were not Elf or Mortal Men either. They looked to be something in-between, although I did not get a clear look at any of them. I think they must have knocked me unconscious after I hit you, for I awoke with difficulty. However, I can detect no injury upon myself. I do not know how they did it."

"Have you ever seen anything of their like in the past?" asked Aragorn.

"No," replied the Elf, "but I have been recollecting some old tales that my father told me when I was young. Do you know where we are?"

"We are in the Ettenmoors, are we not?" asked the Man.

"Yes, and we are near the old realm of the Witch-king of Angmar," said Legolas.

"The Witch-king?" asked Aragorn. "He has been gone for almost one thousand years. What would he have to do with this?"

"He was defeated and driven out of these lands by the Lords Elrond and Glorfindel. It was long ago. But old tales tell of some strange creatures that emerged from his dungeons after his stronghold was opened up and his lands laid waste."

"Were these creatures not Orcs in the process of being created?" asked Aragorn. "I thought they were all put to death compassionately by Lords Elrond and Glorfindel."

"Some were not," said Legolas. "And they escaped into the Wilds. They were never seen again. But there have always been rumors of their existence. The wise lords and lore masters such as Elrond, Glorfindel and Erestor told my Adar long ago that the Witch-king was attempting to create life such as the abominations that had been done by Morgoth and ended up being Orcs and other creatures. The Witch-king apparently took unfortunate mortals from the surrounding mountains and used them in terrible ways."

The Elf stopped speaking and gave a shudder. "And now, the reason that we and the Rangers have come here is because of the so-called recent 'Orc' activity. Do you know what I think, Aragorn?"

"What is that?" asked the young Man.

"I think that it is these creatures that were misused and given some type of unnatural life that have come down out of the mountains, or from wherever they have been hiding for one thousand years. I believe there are bands of them about and they are trying to reunite."

"And you think that we have met some of these creatures?" asked Aragorn. "And that they may have felt threatened by us and that is why they have not killed us? They attacked us out of a sense of self-preservation?"

"I would not go so far as to say that," said Legolas. "We really do not know anything about them."

"But they may be innocent and not as threatening as are the Orcs," said Aragorn. "They may be merely trying to find each other so that they can form their own society. Even if it is a strange one, complete with—ritual sacrifice, as we saw." The Man was not able to control a shudder as he spoke these words.

Legolas stopped walking and pulled Aragorn around to face him. "Aragorn," he said solemnly. "Please do not let your imagination overtake your reason. You are far too sympathetic. We cannot think that these people are harmless and their intentions are not to harm us. We know not who they really are."

A chill wind blew suddenly from over the mountains and enveloped the two friends in its cold embrace. Grey clouds appeared over the jagged peaks and darkened the sky. The light grew dim. Shivering uncontrollably, they embraced briefly to give each other what warmth and strength they could. Legolas gave Aragorn a reassuring pat on the back and spoke with all the bravado he could muster.

"Let us continue walking. There is nothing else we can do."

The two pressed on, trudging through the treacherous roughness of the ground beneath their feet. The sun set slowly, the sky becoming gradually dark, but still they continued. Legolas' night vision guided them further southward.

Suddenly he stopped walking and grasped Aragorn's arm. "See there!" he cried, placing his hand on the Man's head and turning it in the direction he wanted him to look.

Aragorn blinked and when he saw it he whispered, "What is that?"

"I hope it is Halbarad and the Rangers," said Legolas, staring at a procession of twinkling lights far off in the distance and moving slowly toward them.

7


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER EIGHT

A PROCESSION OF MYSTERY

When Bethos had bathed, washing away the bloodstains while standing in the stream, he dressed himself. Elrohir helped him sit down on the grass and with his soothing arm around the shoulder of the smaller Elf, questioned him a soft voice about what had happened to Gilfanon.

Bethos remained fearful and was still crying softly. The blond Elf's voice hitched in his throat as he tried to hold back his sobs. Tears fell upon his elegant cheekbones and he was only able to launch into his story with difficulty. "Gil – Gilfanon and I were standing in the water – no – I was standing and Gilfanon was kneeling – embracing me, as it were," and Bethos stopped speaking to wipe his eyes. Elrohir swallowed hard and regarded him, his concern showing in his knitted brow while holding the smaller Elf in a tight grip.

"Were you engaged in an act of – er –?" Elrohir asked.

"Yes," Bethos nodded, biting his lower lip and trying to stop crying.

"Then what happened?" asked Elrohir.

"We were suddenly startled by this band of – of – creatures. They came upon us so suddenly that we had no time to reach for our weapons, or – in fact, it was so sudden that they were upon us while we were restrained by our embrace – we had no chance at all against them. They tore us apart, and they were shouting at us as if they were angry with us."

"Did they use weapons against you?" asked Elrohir.

"Not at first," replied Bethos. "We saw no weapons, until – until they –" and his voice trailed off.

"Until they what?" asked Elrohir, trying to keep his emotions under control, thinking it best that only one of them indulge in a breaking down of their self-control.

"They grabbed Gilfanon, and despite his strength they pulled him to the ground and bound his hands and feet while they pushed him to his knees. They put a garrote around his neck." Bethos began to tremble and Elrohir soothed him with a comforting arm still wrapped around his shoulders.

"They pulled his head back and forced him to watch as they took hold of me and pulled me into the woods. He was screaming for them not to hurt me, and though they were rough, they did not touch me harshly. However, Gilfanon could not have known that, and I am sure he believed that I would be killed, so he fought fiercely against them. While some of them lifted me up high against the tree trunk where you found me, others lashed me to it."

"You said the blood on you was Gilfanon's," said Elrohir.

"Yes," whispered Bethos. "One of them brought forward a white-handled knife carried on top of a cloth, and it was covered with blood. Before they brought it to me, I heard Gilfanon screaming in pain. It could not have been anyone else's blood but his." He began to tremble, his slight body shaking with deep sobs.

Elrohir hugged the small Elf close to him. "Be brave, Bethos," he said. "That act of displaying the bloodied knife may have been done only to frighten you. These people are obviously not Orcs and they do not sound like warriors. It sounds as if they were performing some type of demonic ritual. However, I do not understand why they have taken Gilfanon captive, nor why they would be angry with him."

"The manner in which they tore us apart while screaming at us in words we could not understand, yet which sounded like words of anger, would indicate to me that they were angry with us for being together in the way that we were," said Bethos. "Perhaps their kind does not tolerate two males making love to each other as we were doing." Bethos turned to look at Elrohir. "Why is love between two males not tolerated by some people?" he asked.

Elrohir stared into his blue eyes, now red-rimmed and full of tears. "I know not, Bethos. I think it is wrong when two good people can find love in a troubled world, yet this thing cannot be seen as beautiful no matter what the peoples' genders may be."

"Do you truly believe that, Elrohir?" asked Bethos.

"Yes, I do," Elrohir responded, his voice becoming husky.

"Then you have a very open mind. I did not set out to fall in love with Gilfanon. Before I met him, I did not know that I could love a male that way. I have watched my friend Ilfrith fall in love with your brother, and I have always thought that I, too, would eventually find a maid to love me. However, I was attracted to Gilfanon's strength and his protectiveness of me and things just happened spontaneously between us."

Elrohir's gaze met that of Bethos and he smiled. "You should believe me when I tell you that I am happy for you."

Bethos began to return the smile but suddenly burst into tears again. "He might be dead as we speak," he cried.

"Perhaps not. You described the strange people as being either one-armed or one-legged. How is that possible? How did they walk? What did they look like?" Elrohir asked curiously.

"They walked with the use of sturdy walking sticks and they moved very quickly and expertly as if the loss of limbs was natural and was not acquired in battle. They were hooded and robed," Bethos explained, sobbing. "Their faces were mostly hidden by their hoods, but I caught a few glimpses of them. Some of them had one eye only and the other side of their faces was blank. Their skin was odd-coloured, as if it had been burned and blackened, almost like Orcs' skin. The one who drew the bloodied knife against my chest and smeared it with Gilfanon's blood had only one arm, but it grew out of his mid-section—in the front of his body." Bethos shuddered as he spoke. "The recollection is too horribly fresh in my mind," he said.

At that moment, Elladan, Tifil and Peleg came scrambling frantically down the embankment and raced up to them. "What has happened? " cried Elladan. "Where is Gilfanon?"

"Elladan, I must speak to you for a moment. Come," said Elrohir, and led his brother away from the others, who ran to attend to Bethos.

"What is it, Elrohir? What has happened?" asked Elladan.

"I will let Bethos tell his story to the group," replied Elrohir. "But for now, follow me and take a look at something I have found." Elrohir led Elladan back into the woods to the tree from which Bethos had been hanging. "Look at this," he said. "I noticed it when I was leading Bethos away from here," and he pointed to a small shrub. Hanging from one of its branches was a strip of bloody skin.

"What is that?" asked Elladan, bending down to peer at it closely.

"Dear Eru and all the Valar," whispered Elrohir. "It looks like Elven skin. I think it must be Gilfanon's. I do believe that they have flayed him. Speak not of this to Bethos or he may come undone completely and not be able to continue traveling with us."

Elladan stiffened. He straightened up and his face was as pale as the moon. He looked as if he was going to vomit. But he recovered quickly and set his jaw in an angry line. "I shall not say anything to the others. But I vow that I shall hunt these unholy creatures as long as I am still living." He stalked away angrily and returned to the other Elves.

Elrohir knelt, and using his short-handled knife to dig a hole in the ground, he carefully retrieved the strip of skin from the branch and buried it in the hole. He patted the dirt over top of the little grave and raised two fingers, kissed them and placed them on top of the mound, leaving them resting on it for a moment.

Rising to his feet, his face pale and his expression determined with a firm set to his mouth, Elrohir helped Bethos to stand and led him back to the encampment, following behind Elladan and the others, and soothed him by holding the blond Elf close and stroking his disheveled hair.

With the remainder of the Elven rangers sitting in a circle, Bethos told his story once again. There was much fear and concern expressed by the other Elves, and much anger. They were all eager to pursue the hideous creatures that Bethos had described. All of their gear had already been packed onto the horses, and so Elladan, as leader of the group, said they should leave immediately. Elrohir assisted Bethos in dressing himself in his warrior gear, and as soon as he was fitted, they were off.

The area through which they traveled was quite woody until the close-knit trees gave way to a clearing and then the plain of the Hoarwell River. But once the rocky ridge of the embankment came into view, the tree growth became thick again, and Elladan and Ilfrith, who were at the head of the procession, stopped to let the others catch up to them. Because of the thickness of the trees, no one could see far enough ahead to be able to catch a glimpse of any group of strange people or creatures that Bethos had described.

When everyone was gathered together on their horses, Elladan regarded them somberly and announced, "Please stay as close to me as possible. I will try to find a suitable place to ford the river." He led his horse gently down the slope of the riverbank, over the stones and into the water. The others all followed in single file and continued through the fast-moving water, the horses walking along its edge, the Elves looking for a suitable shallow place in which to cross. After they had walked east for an hour or so, they came to a place where rapids could be seen, and where many large jagged rocks protruded from the surface and the water became very foamy, with white flecks spitting up over the edges of the waves. They had found their fords. Carefully, Elladan led them across, following the brink of the rapids. The river was wide and it took them a long time to cross it, but the water only reached the horses' knees, and they all managed to cross safely.

Once they reached the other side Elladan gathered everyone around him to make another announcement. "I have decided to ride ahead to scout for those who have taken Gilfanon. They are on foot, so they cannot have gotten too far ahead of us."

"No, Elladan!" Ilfrith cried. Her hand flew to her mouth in terror.

Elladan turned to her, his expression grim. "Ilfrith, I understand how you feel, but this is a dangerous matter. I fear that these people, if that is what they are, are capable of doing great harm. We do not know if there are many of them in this area, or if they are responsible for Legolas and Aragorn's disappearance. I do not want them to get any further ahead of us and be able to elude us completely."

"No, Elladan, I do not wish for you to go at all!" Ilfrith pleaded with him. "Because I am afraid of losing you!"

At that moment Elrohir came forward. "I will go," he offered. He stared at his brother. His mouth turned down at the corners and a frown appeared between his dark brows.

Elladan regarded his twin with just as somber an expression. "Very well, Elrohir. I will allow you to go in my place. But promise me that you will be careful, my brother," he said quietly, giving Elrohir a meaningful glance. He stuck out his arm as his twin rode past him. Elrohir nodded grimly, grasped Elladan's hand firmly in his, then let it go with reluctance and trotted off in a northerly direction across the rocky terrain.

The others all followed Elrohir for some small distance, leaving the river behind, and began to enter the area known as the Ettenmoors. They were now traveling northwest. They soon lost sight of Elrohir in the hilly, swampy land, and they kept following a natural rocky ridge that led through the bogs and over the hills. After they had traveled for many hours, Elrohir had still not returned.

Elladan, extremely worried about his brother, halted the band of Elves beside a small hill overgrown with thick cedar trees and much heavy undergrowth of mosquito-infested shrubs and weeds.

"I fear many things, my friends," he announced. "I fear that Elrohir may have become lost. I fear the unknown horrors that lie ahead. What say you all? Should we go on or should we give up the search, turn back and leave Aragorn, Legolas, Gilfanon and now Elrohir to their fates? If we turn back we could at least spare ourselves injury and perhaps death."

He directed a look of remorse toward Ilfrith, who gazed back at him with a look of stark terror on her face. She knew that he wished for her not to be here and that she should have turned back when they were only a few days out of Rivendell. He was doing this for her, and would risk his own twin. She looked appalled and sickened by the fact that he would do this. Then she appeared to steel herself.

"I want to go on," she said firmly through gritted teeth. "We cannot leave our friends behind."

Elladan smiled at her with relief and admiration in his gaze. "What say the rest of you?" he asked his party of rangers.

None of the other Elves wished for a female to appear braver than they, nor did they wish to leave the others, feeling that such action would be a cowardly betrayal of their comrades and not fitting of their race. They all voiced their wish to continue, and they began to push forward despite the late hour. The sun was setting, but still they galloped on, over hills and down into shallow, marshy valleys. Just when they stopped finally, on top of a hill to rest for the night, Penlod pointed toward the far west. "Look!" he cried.

At a distance of at least a mile, a row of tiny, flickering lights could be seen. They were almost pinpoints, but they were wavering as if they followed a winding path, moving in single file. It was undoubtedly a procession of people carrying torches. "Could that be the people we are seeking?" asked Penlod, squinting into the distance.

"I am sure of it," said Elladan, leaping onto his horse. "Our group has come too far east, and Elrohir may be following close behind. Come! Let us not delay!" He urged his horse forward in the direction of the lights, and the other Elves followed him, springing onto their own steeds. Through the encroaching darkness of night they gave chase to the eerie column of flickering lights trailing off into the dark and mysterious plains to the west.

8


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER NINE

A RESCUE

Elrohir rode hard to the west along the rocky, hilly terrain of the Ettenmoors. He had a feeling that his companions had gone too far east while looking for a place to ford the river and had thus missed the strange band of creatures who had probably taken Gilfanon captive. He hoped that Gilfanon was still alive and that they had not killed him and left his body somewhere in the wilds where it would never be found. For Bethos' sake he wanted to find the creatures, rescue Gilfanon and be able to take him back to his loved one.

The relentless staccato pounding of his horse's hooves was the only sound that reached Elrohir's ears in the vast wilderness through which he traveled. Blue, purple and pink clouds streaked across the western sky as the sun began to set. Birds of prey hovered high above the lands. The wind had died down and the air was now very still and smelled of damp earth and grass. Hopelessness never entered Elrohir's thoughts although his search in a terrifyingly boundless land for a small group of people that he had never seen before would be a daunting task for even the most seasoned warrior. It would have been daunting for someone who was not of Elrohir's mettle.

Finally it grew dark as the shadows of night closed in upon the hills. Elrohir brought his horse to a halt when he feared they could not go further lest there be danger of falling into a gap amongst the rocks. Frustrated, he quickly unpacked his gear but instead of pitching his tent right away he sat down upon a flat-topped rock, wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, and brooded over the day's events.

Although he had been disturbed by the terrible things that Bethos had told him, he found his mind wandering to the conversation they had had about Bethos' feelings for Gilfanon and why these strange people who attacked them may have mistreated the two Elves. It was possible they had done so because they felt that their pairing was blasphemous or evil. Elrohir thought long upon that. His meditations dwelt on Bethos' pain and the obvious love he bore for Gilfanon, the purity of his emotion, and the beauty of his innocence. And he reflected upon the gentleness of their relationship and the offensive and foul way in which the two Elves had been sundered. Anger and sympathy both grew in Elrohir's mind as he contemplated, sitting upon his rock, a lonely figure in the wilds.

He was about to start pitching his tent when a light caught his eye, glimmering from atop a nearby hill. It flickered like fire, and leaving his horse tied to a stump in the ground, Elrohir advanced toward the mound, sword and knives, bow and arrows at the ready. His bloodlust for battle had been inflamed and he ached to fight the creatures that he expected to find upon that hilltop.

He crept forward swiftly but silently along the uneven ground until he was at the foot of the barrow, where he stopped to listen. He could hear a low voice, speaking words he did not recognize. He inched forward, climbing up the hill on his belly toward the sound of that voice. When he approached the summit he stopped and listened carefully. The voice spoke in an odd, staccato manner, and Elrohir heard many of the same words repeated over and over in chanting notes, though he knew not what they meant. He pulled himself along the ground to a large boulder with tall grass sticking up all around it, using it as a screen through which to peer at the gathering.

He saw a group of robed figures standing around a crackling bonfire. He could not see Gilfanon though he looked for him. He saw some of the robed people lifting stones and setting them in a mound to the side of the bonfire. Others brought armfuls of kindling and set them on the ground at the base of the pile of stones. There were fourteen of the figures altogether, Elrohir noted, and he pulled two arrows from his quiver, setting them both against his bowstring, holding their fletchings between two of his fingers. He had seen Legolas do the same, and hoped that he could fell two of the creatures with one shot, reach back for two more by which to fell another two, until the rest rushed him, when he would finish off the remainder of these foul beings with his sword.

He stood up, nocked the two arrows, took aim and let them fly. Two of the robed figures fell with arrows piercing their hearts. He quickly nocked two more arrows as the startled creatures looked about for the source of the deadly shafts. Elrohir shot two more of the foul beings, and the remainder suddenly dispersed, running and hopping down various parts of the hillside. Most of them seemed to disappear like puffs of smoke before Elrohir's eyes, but he kept watching one who was carrying a torch, running down the slope of the hill and up another hillock with huge rocks and boulders at its feet. Elrohir gave chase to this figure. It darted between the boulders until it reached a cave entrance and disappeared inside.

Elrohir followed the fugitive into the caves, traversing carefully and silently the unknown darkness ahead of him. A long tunnel twisted its way through the deep space under the hill of rocks and continued for many meters before it opened into a wide and spacious cavern. Elrohir smelled the dampness of the cave and another stink of rot or something else very foul – the reek of blood or dead flesh.

The robed figure crossed to a torch on the wall and lit it with the one it carried, and lit another in the same fashion, and then another, until the light that filled the cave became quite bright. Elrohir looked around the cavernous space until his startled glance fell upon a pale figure chained hand and foot to the cave wall, its feet held several inches above the ground. Elrohir had hidden himself behind a rock just inside the cave entrance and now he waited quietly until the robed figure turned its back to him. It was busy fiddling with something – Elrohir could hear tin utensils clanking against one another – and he advanced swiftly, coming up behind the figure in such a way that it had no chance to defend itself.

After a brief struggle, Elrohir squeezed the creature's neck with a strong arm held pressed against the other's larynx until its breath was gone, and releasing it so that it fell to the ground unconscious. After that he wasted no time in approaching the naked form hanging upon the wall. He could see that it was an Elf with filthy blond hair. The Elf's head hung down upon his chest so that Elrohir could not see his face. He was thin with the outline of his ribs apparent through his fair skin, and he appeared to be either asleep or unconscious. Elrohir reached upward and cut the chains from the Elf's hands with his sturdy knife, and the limp body fell against him, its head lolling against his shoulder. Carefully, he bent his knees and lowered himself, supporting the Elf's weight upon his shoulder so that he could reach down and cut the chains from his feet. Then he laid the freed Elf upon the ground and smoothed the tangled hair away from his face.

"Why, it is Legolas!" exclaimed Elrohir with a start. "Legolas! What luck that I have chanced to find you!" He patted the unconscious Elf's cheeks with a gentle hand, trying to rouse him. The Mirkwood prince moaned softly but did not open his eyes. Elrohir glanced quickly about the room before getting to his feet. He spied a flagon of water and some tin cups and plates upon the rough wooden table with which the robed figure had been fiddling when he first entered the cave. Upon the table were water, bread and some apples. Elrohir grabbed everything together hastily, shoved it into his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. He rushed to Legolas' side, lifted him into his arms and carried him back through the tunnel to freedom.

'I must make haste to get as far away from here as quickly as possible',' thought Elrohir. 'My first inclination was to speak to the creature in hope of discovering who it is and why it and the others are capturing people, but I can get that information from Legolas when he awakens. My main concern at this moment is to try to bring him back to health.'

Elrohir lifted the motionless Elf to his shoulder, draping the limp body over it and holding onto the flaccid knees while he ran as fast as he could to safety. Bearing Legolas' weight, he raced back to the stump where he had left his horse tied. He did not sense that any of the creatures were still about, but he felt that it was better to try to get away from this area as soon as possible. When he reached the horse he quickly saddled it, packed all of his gear onto it and then took off his cloak and wrapped it around Legolas's naked body. He lifted the still-unconscious Elf onto the saddle and leapt up behind him. Urging the horse to a gallop he let Legolas' head fall back against his shoulder as he leaned forward, the horse following his instruction to go faster.

He was worried about Legolas. He appeared to be hurt badly, although no wounds had been visible at a cursory glance from Elrohir. Since Elrohir wanted to get as far away as possible before stopping, they continued to gallop onward. Rather than traveling east in an attempt to rejoin the rest of his group, Elrohir decided to make his way due south in order to take the route back through the forested area to Rivendell. His reasoning was that Legolas would be of no use to the others in his condition and would serve only to slow down their hunt for Aragorn and Gilfanon. Not only that, but the Mirkwood Elf needed healing that Elrond would be able to provide. He had faith in his brother Elladan and the others that they would eventually find the rest of the creatures, and discover where Gilfanon and Aragorn were being held. It was possible that they could be imprisoned in a cave somewhere as Legolas had been.

Eventually, they reached a thickly-wooded area and Elrohir entered it with caution. The moon had risen and provided enough light to traverse a path through the trees, but it was still very dark and almost impossible to see at any distance in front of them once they had traveled deeper into the woods. Finally they reached a clearing into which the moon shone with its silvery light and Elrohir decided to stop. Carefully, he lifted Legolas down from the horse and laid him gently on the soft grass. He unpacked the tent and quickly pitched it, lined it with blankets and lifted Legolas inside. He laid him down and wrapped the prince in his own cloak before he went to unpack the rest of the gear from the horse and remove its tack.

Once he was finished, Elrohir returned to the tent. He removed his shoulder pads, breastplate and vambraces and set them aside. Then he took off his outer tunic and boots and lay down next to Legolas. The blond Elf's body felt too cold for Elrohir's liking. He pulled a blanket over both of them and snuggled up close to Legolas. Placing his arm around the prince he fell asleep within a few minutes.

Elrohir awoke the next morning stiff with cold, but he could feel some warmth coming from a thin shard of light that beamed through the narrow tent opening. From this he had some hope that the day would warm up quickly. Elrohir had rolled away from Legolas while they slept and he now jumped into a sitting position, afraid for Legolas' condition because there had been very little warmth throughout the night. He turned to give his attention to the blond Elf, laying his hand against the side of the prince's face. He was pleased to discover that Legolas' skin was slightly warm and that a bit of colour tinged his cheeks. Legolas' eyes flew open at Elrohir's touch and he blinked. His eyes focused and he looked puzzled, a frown appearing between his brows.

"Legolas," said Elrohir softly, trying not to startle him.

The Mirkwood prince licked his dry lips and looked questioningly at Elrohir. He tried to say something but only a weak whimper emerged from his parched mouth.

"Do not try to speak yet, mellon-nin," said Elrohir. "I will fetch you some water." He left the tent briefly, returning with a water skin which he handed to Legolas, who took it with a trembling hand and drank from it greedily.

"I am going out to build a fire and then I will make us a proper breakfast," said Elrohir. "When I return I hope we can talk. There is much I would like to know about your capture and imprisonment." Then he left the tent to gather kindling and a few large logs with which to start a fire. He extracted a small tin pot from his bags and began to boil the water in it.

Once he had started some hastily-prepared soup cooking over the fire, Elrohir returned to the tent. Inside he found Legolas trying to sit up, but the poor Elf was so weak that he kept flopping back down onto the blankets, unable to hold up his own head. Elrohir crawled to his side and lifted Legolas so that he could sit. However, the blond Elf could not stay seated and slumped down again. "I will get you something on which to lean," said Elrohir and went to retrieve his backpack, carrying it back to the tent. He propped the prince against the backpack so that he was in a position where he could drink some soup and tea. When he judged that the food was ready, Elrohir brought it to Legolas.

After he had helped his companion to drink both the soup and tea, Elrohir tidied the campsite while Legolas rested. The prince was exhausted from the sheer effort of eating his meal, but Elrohir felt that the hot food, as little as it was, would help to refresh him and enable some of his former strength to return. When he had finished putting everything in order, Elrohir opened the tent flap to look inside at the blond Elf. Legolas had fallen asleep again, but there was more colour in his face than there was before. Elrohir sighed with relief and returned to sit outside by the fire.

He reflected upon his old acquaintance from Mirkwood. He did not know Legolas very well at all, but he knew that the prince had always been strong and energetic, full of vitality and confidence. This Legolas who had been rescued from obvious torture and possible death was alarming. Elrohir was quite shaken by the sight of him, and clutched his bent knees in his arms to still their trembling. Legolas appeared to have suffered more than had Bethos, his kinsman, and Elrohir vowed to protect him. Elrohir had felt protective of Bethos who was no longer under his care, so he vowed to take care of Legolas until the prince's former strength returned.

Elrohir wished he had had a chance to examine Legolas' wounds before this. He did not know if there were any injuries that needed immediate attention because it had been too dark to see Legolas properly when he found him. As soon as the Mirkwood Elf awakened, Elrohir would conduct a proper examination, but first Legolas would need to be bathed and cleaned. Elrohir rose to his feet and decided to search for a woodland stream in which they could wash.

After walking around the perimeter of the clearing, moving in an ever-widening circle, Elrohir discovered just what he was seeking: a small stream, running with clear water and perfect for bathing. It had grassy banks and a muddy but stony bottom, and was full of tiny silvery fish darting about in the water. Many frogs lived along its banks and some of the bright green creatures leapt out of the way of Elrohir's feet as he walked alongside the stream. He poked into the muddy bottom with a stick. The water was only about knee-high, but one could sit down in it as if in a bathtub.

Pleased with his discovery, Elrohir raced back to camp to see if Legolas had awakened. After checking inside the tent, Elrohir saw that the prince was still sleeping, so he went outside to wait. He considered the problem of clothing. Elrohir contemplated what he had with him in the way of attire that he could give Legolas to wear. There was his cloak, his armor, outer heavy tunic, inner light tunic, leather outer leggings, thin doeskin leggings and long underpants. He had only one pair of boots. Legolas' feet were much smaller and more slender than Elrohir's, therefore he would have to remain barefoot, but they could share the other clothing at least. Elrohir thought he could wear the heavier outer garb, and that Legolas could wear the lighter clothing as well as the cloak for warmth.

Elrohir realized that his underclothing was probably quite soiled since he had not changed it for many days. He decided to take everything off and wash it while Legolas was still sleeping. He walked back to the stream after retrieving a bottle of liquid soap from his saddlebag, removed all of his clothes and began to wash his under-tunic, underpants and thin leggings for Legolas to wear. Then he stepped into the stream and soaped himself all over, shampooing his hair as well, undoing his braids and letting his hair flow free. He lowered himself into the water to rinse his body, his hair and his clothes. The water was clear and cool but quite comfortable and refreshing.

When he was finished he laid out the wet clothing on the grass in the sun. Its rays were warm and he thought it would not take long for everything to dry. He walked naked back to camp to check on Legolas once more.

This time when Elrohir opened the tent flap to look inside, Legolas' eyes were open.

9


End file.
